


I Shall Endure Book 1:  Brief Shining Moments

by Melysande



Series: I SHALL ENDURE [1]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alistair Childhood, F/M, Gen, f/Cousland Alistair childhood friends, f/Cousland childhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2017-11-28 23:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 69
Words: 447,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melysande/pseuds/Melysande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ruled by King Maric Ferelden thrived after Rebellion's end, while Highever flourished under the Couslands. Melysande Cousland grew up in happy times, but after King Maric's disappearance, Ferelden changed. This canon divergent growing up story takes Lys to the brink of Blight and Civil war.  Loghain, Alistair, Anora, Cailan, the Couslands, the Howes, my OC characters and many others grow along with Lys during these less turbulent times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Traveling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Which explains how the Couslands came to be in Ferelden. An alternate view of Ferelden history, which enables some twists to the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

  **I SHALL ENDURE BOOK I:**

_**Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,**_  
 _**I shall embrace the light.** _  
_**I shall weather the storm.** _

  
_**I shall endure.** _

  
_**Canticle of Trials 1:10** _

  
**BRIEF SHINING MOMENTS**  
"Don't let it be forgot.  
That once there was a spot.  
For one brief shining moment…"  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior.  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 1:  PROLOGUE – TRAVELING**

* * *

  **2:35 Glory === Highever Village**

"Jadyn, can we do this?  Travel to Thedas?  Settle in Highever?  I know Travelers often settle worlds more primitive than Areth, but this world is millenniums behind Areth.  We'll be returning to the Dark Ages.  It's, as you say, exciting, but daunting and frightening as well."

"Of course we can do this, Melys.  It’s what Travelers do.  We've trained for this.  We've visited Highever.  And it's not as if we won't return to Areth for visits to family and guidance from the Travelers Council as we establish ourselves."

Melys reviewed the maps again.  The Travel Portal stood near a small fishing port on the Waking Sea called Highever.  A local warlord from the Elstan family, cousins to the Howe Banns of Amaranthine, ruled the Coastlands region.  Jadyn and Melys would take up residence on a small farmhold west of the Elstan castle, which overlooked the port town.

"Melys Cousland, Melysande Cousland" Melys repeated.  "At least we keep our given names.  I know I'd mess up and call you Jadyn anyway, if we didn't.  Jadyn Cousland.  Must remember!"

"Well, we need some claim to the farmhold.  We'll be distant cousins who claim the land.  They'll just have no idea how distant."  Jadyn laughed. 

Of the two, Melys enjoyed learning the culture and history of her new home.  Jadyn's interests focused on developing the skills needed to succeed as a farmer, herder, and sometime warrior.  He would owe service to his Elstan lord when conflicts arose.  The Areth Travelers Council encouraged couples to develop complimentary interests and talents.  A breadth of experience ensured success when a couple settled in a newly linked world.  Jadyn and Melys meshed perfectly. 

Arethians developed interstellar travel a millennium ago.  Originally, Travelers moved by space vehicle, but several centuries later Arethians developed Travel Portals.  Portal technology enabled transport of people and objects.  Arethian engineers had completed the Portal link between Areth and Thedas only ten years ago.  This Portal would enable Melys and Jadyn to become the latest Travelers to settle in a new world and the first to settle in Thedas.  Cleverly, disguised solar cells powered the Portal.  A satellite, placed by starship, orbited the Thedosian planet to provide data communications.  The mages of Thedas would be amazed at the achievements of Arethian science, had they known.

As Jadyn and Melys prepared to leave Areth, they reviewed the maps and documents provided by the Travelers Council.  Arethian explorers had observed Thedas for decades prior to establishing the Highever Portal.  Reports of Thedas from the original ship-based exploration team had intrigued the Travelers Council, which managed Travel for Areth’s government.  Humans, elves, dwarves and who knew what other intelligent creatures populated the planet.  Even more intriguing, many kinds of magic were endemic in Thedas.  Lacking it in their world, Arethians longed to understand the magic they saw in other places.  Exploring a world peopled with mages and many intelligent species was irresistible.  

Melys frowned as she reviewed the limited history the Council provided.  "Highever seemed civilized enough, when we visited, but all this talk of tribes makes me wonder about the rest of the territory.  The north and west of Thedas seem far more established."

"What, do you fear barbarians will swoop down upon us?"

"Well, maybe.  The Alamarri tribes seem settled enough on the Coastlands and in the Central Ferelden Valley, although the Clayne appear more warlike.  I suppose we should just avoid traveling to the Frostback Mountains to the west and the Frozen Wilds to the south.  The Avvars in the mountains and the Chasind Wilders might not welcome curious intruders."

"We'll worry about exploring beyond the Coastlands and the Valley once we're established, love," Jadyn replied. 

"It seems the Alamarri came from the west," Melys continued, "pushed out by more powerful tribes settling there.  Once across the Frostbacks the Alamarri broke up into separate war bands.  I suppose the easier life of the fertile valley and coast led the main Alamarri bands to settle down on farms.  They still seem very warlike, however, over land and honor apparently.  It's a good thing you learned how to use sword and bow.  I wonder if they will find my use of a bow odd.  This says that their women often become archers.  I hope it’s accurate."

"If nothing else, a more primitive region, near a seaport, should allow us to blend in more easily than we could in those more settled lands to the north and west," Jadyn assured her.

"Right.  I guess in those lands the worry wouldn't be swooping barbarians, but haughty lords who would not believe our claim and shout _off with their heads_."

"Or freeze us with magic."

"And perhaps the lord would be an elf or a dwarf.  Although, it seems the dwarves have their own kingdom, underground.  Elves seem to be poorly treated, if not enslaved in some areas."  Melys sighed.  "Magic, elves, dwarves, slaves, warring tribes - it seems the stuff of fairy tales.  I wonder if Areth had the same sort of society eons ago.  Perhaps our fairy tales are grounded in ancient truths?"

"For a smart woman, Melys, you can go off on flights of fancy."

She grinned at him.  "Well, we'll soon have the opportunity to explore those flights.  Did you pack your journals?  Just think, our Highever Journals will sit on the shelves of the Travelers Council along with those of all the storied Travelers who came before us."

"Yup.  Journals packed; along with camera, power bands, music player earring, medicines, fake quill pens, clothing, coin...um I think that's it.  It will be nice to have a few comforts from home, as long as we don’t violate The Rule and avoid interfering with _the Natural Progress_ of the Theodosian civilizations."

"I guess we're ready to Travel tomorrow.  Although I must admit, I worry less about interfering with things, than interfering with thoughts and beliefs.  It will be hard not to impose our principals on these people."

A bureaucracy, The Travelers Council, grew to manage the Travelers, receive and record their experiences and provide rules and guidance.  _The Rule_ forbad the introduction of advanced ideas and technologies to the Travelers’ worlds.  The Travelers lived in their world as normal inhabitants, participating as appropriate for the rank and occupation they adopted.  Very quickly, their linked planet became _Home_ and Areth became the Home World – the place they came from. 

The Highever Portal rested in an underground passage carved out by the Portal Builders.  To the north, the passage opened into a cave in the cliffs above the Waking Sea.  To the south, the passage opened into a tunnel running from the ancient Elstan castle to the village.  A secret door secured each end of the Portal passage.  The door could only be opened with a recognized palm press and entry code.  A storeroom in the Portal alcove housed supplies.  Travelers had one option natives did not.  When threatened with death they could escape to Areth, if they chose, or use the tunnel and supplies to escape to a safer location. 

From the cave in the cliffs, a narrow path rose to the Coastland meadows not far from the farmhold Melys and Jadyn would claim as their own.  Emerging from the cave and hoisting their packs, the two Travelers trudged up the path and through the grassy fields to their new home.  Once settled, they would go to the castle of Bann Elstan to lay claim to their _cousin_ Martyn Cousland’s lands.  In settling Thedas, they would follow in the footsteps of numerous other Arethian Travelers who settled permanently in distant worlds to expand Arethian knowledge of the universe. 

_The Rule_ did not prevent Arethian values from informing the actions of Travelers within the political, social, and cultural context of the linked world.  The Council understood that the society a Traveler joined would be influenced by the Traveler’s presence.  Nor did _The Rule_ prevent Travelers from using Arethian medicine, knowledge, and tools for themselves.  The Rule discouraged Travelers from divulging their status to natives, but did not forbid it.  Often, native spouses learned of or became Travelers.  Travelers’ children attended school in Areth.  On becoming adults, Areth offered children the option of remaining Travelers, settling permanently Areth or abandoning Travel to live as natives in the linked world.

Arethian values included belief in the equality of all intelligent life forms and genders.  Areth itself was a society based on individual responsibility; widely accessible education and healthcare; encouragement of both basic and applied scientific research; broad-based economic opportunities; respect for history and support of, culture, artisans, and artists.  These core values informed Arethian’s lives in their new linked worlds.  All these values could be applied, in the context of a linked world’s society, without violating _The Rule_.   

For Jadyn and Melys, an immediate sore point in Thedas would be the treatment of elves and mages.  Their first visit to Highever village provided a rude awakening to their more tolerant mindset.  After visiting the Seneschal at the Elstan castle to prove their claim to Martyn Cousland’s lands, Jadyn and Melys decided to visit the village.  The castle sat on an outcrop overlooking a stretch of coastland, which extended north to the cliffs above the Waking Sea.  The village and port stood less than a mile to the east. 

A village on the verge of becoming a town, Highever had a modest earthen wall with a wooden gate structure.  The gate stood open during daylight and no one obstructed Jadyn or Mely’s entry into the town.  They strolled down the main pathway noting the shops lining both sides of the path.    The main path opened into a square containing market stalls.  From the square, the path continued toward the dock area.  Highever’s main business was fishing, but a growing wool trade resulted in more merchant vessels from Kirkwall and Cumberland visiting the fine harbor.

“What’s that area by the docks, I wonder, “ Jadyn said.  “It seems there are only elves on those streets.  The housing looks rather rundown.”

“That must be what is called an ‘Alienage’ or an area where only elves live.”

“A ghetto?”

“Well, I guess that’s what we would call it, at ho...  in Areth.”  Melys hesitated, trying to recall her research.  “Many dockworkers or fishing boat crew are elven, so I guess they choose to live close to where they work.  Some women and men work as servants.  It seems they aren’t allowed to own businesses or hold other jobs.  They’re prohibited from carrying weapons, other than small utility knives.  They can’t even learn martial skills.”

“There’s a wall between one side of the Alienage and the rest of the village,” Jadyn noticed.  “I guess we just have to accept that kind of discrimination for now.  That will be hard.”

“Well, if we can ever afford it, I suppose we could hire elves and treat them well.  One small step at a time, as an example to our children, when we have them.”

“Any other unpleasant surprises I should know about?”  Jadyn queried.

“That mages aren’t treated any better, perhaps.  They’re taken from their families when their magic ‘manifests’ and put in a tower called Kinloch Hold to be trained by other mages.  They call themselves The Circle of Magi.  The Andrastian Chantry oversees their... imprisonment I guess, although I suppose that’s not how it’s termed here.  Many of the mages never leave that tower.  Our observers didn’t discover much about what goes on in the Tower other than it was a kind of limited access institution for mages.  There are many Towers scattered through Thedas.

“There are soldiers, called templars, who secure the tower and prevent entrance.  The templars are part of the Chantry, a sort of military monk.  Many take vows of chastity.  Templars are considered a holy order of the Chantry.  Some do not, but do not rise in rank.  Common templars, I guess we would call them.  Either type tracks escaped mages and returns them to the Tower.  They also hunt mages who’ve managed to avoid the Tower.  They call those mages apostates or hedge mages.  Then, there are mages they call maleficars, but the observers weren’t clear on how they differed from apostates.  They thought, perhaps, that maleficars had committed some kind of crime with their magic.  Apparently, the only ‘crime’ apostates commit is not being in the tower.  The Andrastian Chantry interprets Andraste’s precept “ magic was made to serve man” quite strictly.”

“Don’t mages heal?  Why wouldn’t they use healing magic and have mages settled in every town?”

“They fear mages so they lock them up.  Our observers’ noted that some nobles have a healing mage in their household.  They call them ‘free’ mages meaning they do not have a templar accompanying them.  The rule, however, is that any mage out of the Tower must have a templar guardian with them at all times.”

“That must be unbelievably creepy.  A constant watcher.”

Jadyn grabbed Melys’ arm and pulled her back into the shadow of an alley.  “That must be the Chantry over there.  Look at those guards!  They’re more heavily armored than the Castle or Village Guards.“

“They must be the templars.  Templars also guard Chantries.  Not sure why Chantries need guarding, but each one has its complement of templars.  Maybe they watch for apostates or supplement the town Guard?  Again, the observers couldn’t discover much.  Apparently, the Chantry and its Templars are quite secretive.  Scary much?”

“Wicked scary.”  Jadyn chuckled.  “Let’s not visit the Chantry just yet.”

“Sounds like a plan.  How about visiting the market and shops.”

Walking through the thriving market, Melys decided she liked this aspect of Highever.  She particularly enjoyed the various wool and cloth merchants.  Trade in wool provided a mainstay of Highever’s economy, along with the tin and copper mined in the coastal mountains.  A talented weaver herself, she looked forward to participating in the wool culture.  The smithy’s stall attracted Jadyn’s attention, with its display of fine blades, shields, and metal arrowheads.  He had noticed the actual blacksmith’s workshop on the edge of town and guessed it served both town and castle.  The number of foreign merchants surprised both Jadyn and Melys. 

“The port of Highever must be growing to attract so many foreign merchants,” Jadyn commented.

“And its population must be growing too,” Melys added.  “Someone must buy what they bring in.”

“Seems like the Council chose the settlement location well,” Jadyn said.

The descendants of Jadyn and Melys would succeed far beyond their expectations.  Sarim Cousland, their great-great-great-grandson, would rise to become Bann of Highever when Conobar Elstan died.  He held the lands in vassalage to the Arls of Amaranthine.  With time, the Couslands would conduct a 30-year war to liberate Highever from Amaranthine’s rule.  After Mather and Haelia Cousland drove off the werewolves during a lycanthrope plague, Highever become a Teyrnir In a noteworthy reversal of power, the Teyrnir of Highever would eventually include the Arldom of Amaranthine as its vassal. 

Elethia Cousland led Highever in opposition to Calenhad as he fought to unify Ferelden, but, when defeated, made peace and became part of Calenhad’s Kingdom of Ferelden.  Highever and House Cousland became staunch royalists supporting Calenhad’s Theirin line.  Eventually, House Cousland and Highever resisted the Orlesian Occupation alongside Maric Theirin and Loghain MacTir.  The Couslands remained Travelers.  The original Portal, near the town and port of Highever, connected through the underground tunnels to the ancient Elstan Castle, which became known as Castle Cousland.

While the Couslands called Highever home for generations, the family continued to move between worlds.  Their ability to understand Arethian science & technology and alternative cultural and philosophical views informed the Couslands rule in Ferelden.  Melysande Cousland, born in 9:10 Dragon, was educated in Areth, loved Arethian music and culture and made use of Arethian medicine and technology.  The influence of and tools from Areth provided a foundation for Melysande’s life, but Melysande was, first and foremost, a Fereldan and a Cousland of Highever.

Highever treated its elves, dwarves, and women more equitably thanks to the egalitarian views passed down to their descendants by Jadyn and Melys.  The Couslands believed in educating their populace, providing training and apprenticeships, and ensuring no individual who was willing to work hard would lack the opportunity to succeed.  These views provided an educated, entrepreneurial populace, which resulted in Highever’s growing prosperity. 

The egalitarian view extended, as much as it safely could under the Chantry, to mages.  Throughout Highever, mages, particularly healers, could hide in plain sight with little fear of being reported to the Chantry by their neighbors.  The Couslands always had at least one free mage household healer and a few free mages in the Teyrnir’s Army and Guard.  The Teyrn even proposed establishing 'Circles' in local Chantrys to train young children near their homes and families, rather than removing them to Kinloch Hold.  While conceding the need for templar abilities, the Teyrn believed the functions could be integrated into the local Guard and Army.  He quietly questioned the use of lyrium.  His proposals had yet to be accepted by either the Landsmeet or the Chantry, but the Teyrn continued to champion them.

Ruled by the Couslands, Arethian ideals combined with Highever’s natural riches and fortunate location made Highever the most advanced and prosperous region of Ferelden under King Maric’s rule.  The longevity of the Cousland family line assured their ascendance as the country’s senior noble family.  During Melysande Cousland's childhood, Ferelden became a thriving nation.  Highever flourished as never before.  Melysande knew only the brief happy period between Rebellion and Blight, happiness that would prove as fleeting as her childhood.  This tale recounts that childhood, which ended one terrible night in the shadow of Civil War and Darkspawn Threat.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. If you have time, please review. Book 1 may be complete, but I'm working on Book 2.
> 
> After completing Brief Shining Moments, I re-read and edited the entire work. From Chapter 14 on I had the support of my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion which resulted in far fewer errors. Any remaining are mine alone. There may be a few tweaks to wording, but no content changes. 
> 
> I’ve received the support of many reviewers. Mike3207, Arsinoe de Blassenville,Caraine,clafoung,SnowHelm,katdancer2,dustywalker, Easternviolet, ElyssaCousland, Nymra, ChaoticHarmony1991, EveHawk, susyjohn, Judy,maradeux,DjinniGenie,Pollyanna24, Contess. Others have followed and favorited the story or posted kudos. Thanks to all of you.
> 
> I created some appendices with art, background assumptions on timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure


	2. The Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:10 Dragon - Beginnings skipping to 9:18 Dragon - Traveling to Redcliffe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 2:  THE GIFT**

* * *

 

**9:10 Dragon 23 Guardian === Castle Cousland, Highever**

Eleanor Cousland turned thirty-one on 23 Guardian in the year 9:10 Dragon.  By mid-day, she lay in the birthing chamber of Castle Cousland exhausted between contractions.  Her previous two pregnancies had ended in miscarriages.  Fergus, the heir to the Teyrnir, was seven. 

Eleanor had carefully avoided pregnancy for four years after the last miscarriage, but decided to try one final time.  Her physicians in Areth assured her another pregnancy was possible, but recommended an Arethian physician establish herself in Higheverport as a mid-wife.  Eleanor agreed.  Her child would be born in Castle Cousland, not Areth.  The Arethian midwife, Marian, and the House mage healer, Nyla, would care for her.  Her pregnancy proceeded normally under the physician/mid-wife's care.  Eleanor prayed to the Maker for only one gift on this Name Day: the birth of a healthy, full term baby.

Melysande Elayne Cousland arrived in early evening to ecstatic, grateful parents.  The midwife and mage healer quickly inspected and cleaned the babe and her mother.  Healing spells flowed from the mage through Eleanor.  Then, once Eleanor was holding her little girl, Marian called Bryce to meet his daughter.  The setting sun shone illuminated the birthing room.  A soft breeze, with the tang of salt from the nearby Waking Sea, drifted through the window as the new mother held her baby girl.  Bryce smiled as he leaned in to catch Melysande's small hand in his and kiss his wife's brow.  Fergus trailed behind, anxious to meet this long awaited sibling.

"Happy Name Day, love," Bryce murmured to his wife.  Gazing for the first time at his daughter, he added, "Thank the Maker, she's a beautiful sight."

"Eleanor smiled. “  Five fingers, five toes, she's perfect, Bryce.”  Eleanor turned to her son, "Fergus, meet your little sister.  Lys meet your big brother."

Old enough not to feel threatened by a younger sibling, Fergus grinned.  "I was hoping for a little brother to spar with, but I guess she'll have to do.  Lys, huh?  Or Lyssie?  That's definitely a girly name."

"Fergus, you are the limit," his mother sighed.  "For all you know, she may be a battle maiden.  After all, I fought in the Rebellion.  Many Fereldan women learn martial skills.  Of course, she will need maidenly skills as well, but she may surprise you."

Bryce laughed, "You've seen your mother shoot at targets and game, but don't forget she shot at Orlesians once upon a time.  Cousland women led the Teyrnir in battle in the past.  Remember Melys, Haelia, and Elethea.  Don't discount Cousland women.  You may have your sparring partner after all."

Fergus grinned, "Hadn't thought of that, Da.  A girl sparring partner, hmmm?  That's a thought.  A war maiden should be called Mel, I think.  Maybe I'll call her that."

Bryce snorted, "You have a point Ferg.  Lyssie is very girly."

Eleanor rolled her eyes, "See what I have to put up with," she said to Marian, "I swear, Bryce, sometimes you act more like Fergus' brother, his younger brother."

Marian chuckled and cleared her throat.  "Eleanor, you should feed her now.  Perhaps Fergus should go to supper.  I can have something brought in for you and Bryce.  Then, tomorrow, we'll go to Revona City to have you and Melysande checked at the clinic in Areth.  The mage's healing scan showed no problems, but we should check scientifically as well."

"Off you go Fergus," his father commanded.  "I'll see you later, before you go to bed.”  He turned back to Eleanor, "Ellie, we do have a wet nurse."

"I know, Bryce.  We will work out a schedule to share Lys' feedings soon.  I want to feed her these first few weeks.  It's important, as you well know.  Besides, I'll heal faster," she replied, with a smirk.

Bryce grinned back, "There is that…"

**9:18 Dragon 23 Solace === 8 Years Later === Rainesfere Manor, Ferelden**

As a break in the three-week trip to Redcliffe, the Couslands stopped at Teagan Guerrin's Rainesfere Manor.  Attending the Arl of Redcliffe's annual Funalis Tourney and stopping at Rainesfere on the way had become an annual occurrence.  Teagan would join the Cousland party for the remainder of the journey to Redcliffe and his brother's Castle above the village.  This year Arl Eamon Guerrin expected Teyrn Cousland and Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir, as well as King Maric and Crown Prince Cailan to attend the Tourney.  Arl Eamon and Bann Teagan were the King's brothers-in-law and Cailan's uncles.  In spite of the relationship, the occasional royal visits to Redcliffe caused great excitement.

Lys had attended the Funalis Tourney for the first time two years ago, when she was six.  Teagan enjoyed seeing how much the girl had grown each year since.  Now eight, she was a bright child, full of laughter and enthusiasm.  Her green eyes sparkled with curiosity and a hint of mischief, as they walked to his kennels.  She ran her hands through long, dark brown, hair pulling it away from her face.  She tied it at her nape with a leather thong.  Around her face, soft tendrils escaped.  _Maker preserve the boys who meet her when she grows up_.

Situated in the foothills of the Frostback Mountains just west of Lake Calenhad, Rainesfere was a remote Bann.  To Teagan, the beauty of the setting outweighed its distance from the main cities of Ferelden, which were situated on the north and east coasts.  Redcliffe, little more than a village, was the nearest population center.  Teagan enjoyed hunting and fishing, managing the farmholds, orchards and herders of his Bann and entertaining those of like mind who made the effort to visit.  Rainesfere's location on the Imperial Highway west of Lake Calenhad enabled it to engage in a lively trade with the cities on the coast to the north, with the Mages Tower at Kinloch Hold, with Redcliffe and with a few nearby Orlesian cities to the west.  Overall, Teagan's Bann, though small, prospered through trade, with its primary products being cider, fleece, and furs.

"Papa won't let me have a mabari puppy yet," Lys announced.  "He said I had to wait until I was twelve before I could try for one to imprint on me.  That's such a long time."

"I didn't have one until I was sixteen.  They're a lot of work to train and you need to be able to fight, so they can learn how to fight with you."

Lys regarded him solemnly, "Sixteen?  Well I'm just learning to fight.  I have a practice sword and Fergus teaches me forms.  I'm not very good yet, but I will be when I'm twelve.  I'll dump Fergus on his ars…rear by then.”  She frowned, tilting her head.  “Even so, that doesn't mean a mabari will imprint.  Fergus is fourteen and one hasn't imprinted on him.  They're very picky I guess."

"It took a few years before one imprinted on me.  There's hope for Fergus," he laughed as they proceeded to the kennels.  "You are right Lys, mabari are quite selective, both in picking their companion person and in accepting their name. _Smart enough not to talk_ is the saying you know.  Smartest dogs in Thedas.  Once one bonds with you, you have a fighting partner, a companion, and a protector for the life of the mabari.”  Teagan opened the kennel gate and let Lys in to play with the puppies, knowing both pups and Lys were too young for imprinting.

Lys settled on the kennel floor as five small mabaris mobbed here.  "You are all sooo beautiful," she complimented.  "Bann Teagan, what is the mother's name?"

"Silk because her coat is so lovely."

"Silk.  You have beautiful pups.  Congratulations.  Thank you for letting me visit them.”  The mabari bitch barked softly in response, her tail stub wagging.

Teagan smiled at the good manners Lys displayed.  Mabaris did not speak, but could make their displeasure known in many other ways.  Silk dozed, while Lys played with her pups, accepting the girl's courteous greeting.

Bann Teagan Guerrin, at twenty-seven, was an eligible bachelor who spent more time at his Manor, than in the capitol city of Denerim.  While he held his manor in pledge to his brother, Arl Eamon, his governing style more closely emulated the more enlightened governance of the Couslands.  Though he traded with the Orlesians across the nearby border, he did not agree with his brother's conciliatory attitude toward the former foe.

Arl Eamon's recent marriage influenced his views.  He had, unaccountably, fallen in love with the daughter of a minor Orlesian noble.  Under the Occupation, this noble, Ser Malvoix[1], held lands from the Orlesian Chevalier who had usurped their father, Arl Rendorn Guerrin's, lands of Redcliffe.  The Orlesian nobles fled Ferelden shortly after Orlais' defeat in the Fereldan Rebellion.  The Malvoix daughter had returned, however, already enamored of Arl Eamon.  Isolde Malvoix vowed her allegiance to Ferelden, but Teagan sometimes doubted the depth of that commitment.  Isolde's allegiance, he often thought, was to herself, although, in her defense, she seemed to care deeply for Eamon.

Bann Teagan would enter the upcoming Tourney.  A Tourney veteran, he participated because he should.  His love was not battle, but managing his lands.  He avoided the intrigue his brother so enjoyed, but kept well enough informed to participate in the Landsmeet and exert some influence in the Bannorn.  He often found himself allying with the moderating views of his houseguest, the Teyrn.

Teagan sometimes mediated the disputes, which often divided his brother, the Arl, and the two Fereldan Teyrns who advised King Maric.  Teyrn Bryce promoted policies ensuring Ferelden's economic well-being.  Bryce considered Orlais a persistent threat, unlike the Arl of Redcliffe.  To limit or contain the power of Orlais, Bryce believed Ferelden should be prosperous and self-sufficient.  Prosperity would enable Ferelden to defend itself and create mutually beneficial economic and defensive alliances.  Highever, with two of Ferelden's four ports, thrived on trade with Nevarra, The Free Marches, Rivain, and Antiva.  The Couslands encouraged, supported, and underwrote the mining and wool industries, which produced the goods exported by Highever.  Fostering a prosperous economy through trade was basic to Bryce's Arethian influenced philosophy of governance.

Teyrn Loghain MacTir often argued from an isolationist stance, advocating limits to both defensive alliances and trade agreements with any foreign power.  Lack of agreements hurt his Teyrnir of Gwaren, which exported much of its timber harvest from the port of Gwaren.  His hatred of Orlais, which often bordered on obsessive, skewed his views of any foreign alliances.  His opposition to the Arl of Redcliffe's views was legendary.  King Maric tended to share Teyrn Cousland's views, but often chose to moderate them with careful application of Teyrn Loghain's isolationist policies.  The Arl of Redcliffe got a hearing, but rarely, even with Teagan's moderating influence, found his policies adopted.

"…Bann Teagan," He realized Lys had been trying to get his attention, "Sorry, Lys.  I was lost in thought I guess.  Are you ready to go back to the manor?”  She stood outside the kennel door, which was shut and secured.

She nodded, "Yes, thank you for bringing me to visit the pups.”  Changing the subject she asked, "Can I see your horse on the way back?  Fergus says he's magnificent."

Teagan chuckled, "He does, does he?  You Couslands and your horses.  You ride before you can walk, so I suppose that shouldn't be a surprise.  The best horses in Ferelden come from Highever."

Lys, looking smug, agreed, "They are.  I've ridden since I was two.  I plan to ride to Redcliffe on Arrow.  Since the carriage and carts go so slowly, he has no trouble keeping up."

The pair headed to the stable, then back to the manor to clean up for dinner.

**9:18 Dragon 24 - 27 Solace === On the Road to Redcliffe**

The Redcliffe bound travelers managed an early start the following day.  Eleanor chose to ride in the carriage with her lady's maid, Reine, Lys' Nurse, Freya, and their mage healer, Nyla.  Most Fereldens did not travel with a mage healer, but the Couslands had managed, centuries ago, to gain and then maintain Chantry permission to include a free mage healer in their household.  The truly unique position of a free mage, unsupervised by a templar, made the status one Circle Mages coveted.

Fergus' nurse Nan, as Fergus grew older and no more children came, had moved onto other duties becoming one of the Castle cooks.  When Lys came along, Eleanor hired Freya, rather than take Nan out of the kitchen she had come to love as Head Cook.  Even so, she sometimes helped Freya or looked after Lys in the kitchens where, more often than not, she put her to work.  At eight, Lys could actually cook, an unusual accomplishment for a young noble woman.

Teagan, Bryce, Fergus, and Lys rode just ahead of or alongside the carriage at a leisurely pace.  Their Guard contingents surrounded the noble party.  Lys rode exceedingly well and, as she'd told Teagan, had no trouble keeping up.  In fact, keeping her reined in proved more of a problem, as she loved to race ahead and try to speed up the procession.  She longed for the day she had a full sized horse and could beat Fergus in a race.

The weather in Solace remained warm, although the nights could be crisp, and sundown came early, particularly in the shadow of the Frostbacks.  The group stopped to make camp as the sun dropped toward the peaks to the west.  The site was on a hillside overlooking the Imperial Highway.  From this height, Lake Calenhad shimmered in the distance through the mix of pines and hardwoods that made up the forest.  They had passed the farmholds and orchards of Rainesfere earlier in the day.  Sheep and their shepherds populated the foothills of the Frostback Mountains

The servants quickly and efficiently set up the camp.  The tents used by the Couslands were roomy, but not extravagant.  Bryce and Eleanor had the largest pavillion.  It provided both a gathering point, if sitting by the fire became too chilly, rainy or buggy, and their sleeping quarters.  Three other smaller tents belonged to Lys and Nurse Freya, to Fergus, and to Nyla.  The servants shared a fourth tent and space in the covered cart.  Teagan of course had his own tent and one for his servants.  The Guard set up a separate camp nearby.

Before she knew it the smell of roasting meat and simmering stew piqued Lys' appetite.  She enjoyed the informality of camp.  Everyone did his or her part, even the Teyrn and Teyrna.  Her father, brother and Teagan assisted with the tents.  She, Freya and Nyla gathered wood for the fire.  Her Mum supervised the dinner preparation, having honed her camp cooking skills during the Rebellion.  Lys looked forward to sitting by the fire, curled up in her father's lap, listening to stories until she drifted off and Papa carried her to her tent.  Their Guards would post a watch, as bandits sometimes frequented the area, but, for some reason, camp always felt safe and secure.  Lys sighed happily, as she settled by the campfire, leaning against her mother's knee.

The journey to Redcliffe from Rainesfere Manor took four days.  The group would arrive a few days before the start of the Tourney, which would begin on the day after Funalis.  Arlessa Isolde Guerrin developed the idea of a tourney to mark the Chantry's commemoration of Andraste death.  With some prodding from Teagan, Arl Eamon followed King Maric's lead and designated the fest day itself to commemorate the dead of the Occupation and Rebellion.  Funalis was a somber holiday.  The Trade Fair and the excitement of the activities surrounding the Tourney would provide a welcome uplift after the long day of Chantry services and the Memorial ceremony.

On the third day of their travels, Bryce asked Lys to ride in the carriage with her mother so they could increase the pace.  Although she would never admit it, she was relieved.  Not used to riding for so long every day, even her young body was a bit stiff and sore.

"Mum, do you think the boy will be there again," she asked.

"What boy?”  Eleanor looked puzzled for a moment, "Oh, the boy in the stable?"

"Yes," answered Lys.  "He was fun.  He was the only person my age to play with.  And he can ride too.”  She recalled finding her friend in the Redcliffe Castle Garden two years before.

" _Hello," a voice behind her said.  Lys turned to find a boy about her age smiling shyly.  "Did you come with one of the noble families?"_

_For some reason, she only gave her name.  "Yes, I'm called Lys."_

" _I'm Dog Boy.  I…well, you looked like you might pick one of the Arlessa's roses.  It's probably not a good idea.  I wanted to warn you."_

_Lys smiled, "You caught me.  I was thinking of taking one for my Mum.  Thank you for the warning.  Is that your name?  Dog Boy?  Do you live here?"_

" _It's what everyone calls me.  I live in the kennels."_

" _Oooh…with the Arl's mabari's?  Can we visit them?"_

" _I can, but I'm not sure I should bring a guest."_

" _Oooh plleeeaase."_

_The boy frowned.  "Well, if we only look from outside the kennel.  We can't go in."_

" _That would still be fun.  I don't want you to get in trouble.”  Lys followed the boy to the kennels, only to find her father and brother there._

" _Lys, I see you found your way here," her father said._

" _Yes, Papa.  Dog Boy showed me the way."  She turned to the boy, "This is my Papa and my brother, Fergus."_

_The boy's eyes grew big as he recognized the Teyrn of Highever.  "Your Grace," he bowed.  "If you'll excuse me…."_

" _No, you don't have to go.  Please, tell us their names," Lys asked._

_He shuffled, then walked over by the kennel pens.  "This is Rebel.  He's the father.  The female in the next pen is Dane and the female with pups in the far pen is Moira.  The pups are young still, but the Kennel Master doesn't like to risk imprinting so we can't go in."_

" _Thank you, young man," Teyrn Bryce smiled.  "You know, if you have free time from your duties, you may play with Lys.  Just don't let her get you trouble."_

_The boy looked up, wide-eyed.  "Thank you, Your Grace."_

" _Well, of course, he can play with me.  Why wouldn't he be allowed to?"  She frowned as she looked at her father._

" _This isn't home, Lys.  The Arl or Arlessa might think he is overstepping if I did not give permission."_

" _I asked him to come with me."_

" _I know, Pup, but it's better if we both invite him to play with you."_

_Lys turned to the boy, "You don't have to play with me if you don't want to.  I asked, I didn't command you."_

_He looked from the Teyrn to the girl, "I think I'd like to play with you, but I need to go back to the stables right now.  Wilmot will be looking for me.  I started helping him there, when I'm not busy here."_

" _May I come with you?  I could help," the boy nodded, but a look of concern flickered across his face._

_The Teyrn and Fergus looked at each other, trying not to chuckle.  "Son," the Teyrn called, "she does know her way around a stable."_

_Fergus added," She's actually good at mucking out."_

_Lys glared at her brother as she followed the boy.  It was true, but mucking out was not her favorite stable chore._

_On arriving at the stable, the boy stopped abruptly, "You didn't say you were_ Lady _Cousland," he accused.  "Maybe you should go back to the Castle.  I don't need anyone making fun of me or getting me in trouble."_

_Lys stepped back, startled, "I'm not making fun of you.  I don't want to get you in trouble.  Why would you think that?"_

" _No?  The other children didn't tell you to go find the bastard Dog Boy the Arlessa hates and get him in trouble?"_

" _You mean those silly girls in the garden?" she replied, waving a hand dismissively.  "I don't play with them.  I certainly don't take orders from them, even if they are older.  The boys all think I'm a silly girl, so I don't bother with them either.  Most nobles don't bring daughters as young as I am," she added proudly.  "I thought you might be fun to be with when you warned me about the roses.  If you don't want me here, I'll go."_

" _No, you can stay.  It's just…they like to bother me.  Then I do something stupid and the Arlessa gets angry.  Then I get punished."_

" _I won't bother you or get you in trouble.  Well, I'll try not to get either of us in trouble.  I'm kinda of good at getting in trouble though..."_

" _Your father and brother were nice to me, but they may not know…"_

" _That you're a bastard?"_

" _Right."_

" _If it matters, then my father would know.  He said I could play with you."_

_He looked down and scuffed his foot in the dirt, now embarrassed by his outburst.  "He also said you know your way around a stable.  Can you prove it?  I need to clean and put away tack."_

" _Of course, I'll help you.  You tell me how you do here.”  She took his hand and pulled him into the stable.  "Where's the tack room?"_

Eleanor knew the boy would still be there, probably still banished to the stables, as he was last year.  Once, he had a small space in the servants' quarters and access to the household.  Eamon even had the occasional meal with him or let the boy accompany him into the village.  After his marriage, however, Isolde quickly banished the boy from the castle.  Eleanor guessed Isolde believed the boy to be Eamon's byblow and a reminder of her own childless state.  _Even so, how could Eamon allow her treat the boy so badly?_.  _Or rather, how could King Maric let him_?

She and Bryce had ignored the mistreatment last year, as it really could not be the Couslands' concern. So few, probably including Isolde, knew who the child really was, so objecting to his treatment would seem odd. If Maric wanted his illegitimate son treated like a foundling, then that's how it would be. No other noble could interfere without appearing to use the boy for his or her own purposes. It still puzzled her. That kind of neglect was so unlike the king. Perhaps Bryce should talk to Teagan.

"Yes, my darling, I think the boy will be there.  What was his name?"

"Alistair, "replied Lys.

* * *

 [1] The name Malvoix is purely my invention; I’ve made Isolde’s family lesser nobles and not governor of Redcliffe.

# 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. If you have time, please review. Book 1 may be complete, but I'm working on Book 2.
> 
> After completing Brief Shining Moments, I re-read and edited the entire work. From Chapter 14 on I had the support of my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion which resulted in far fewer errors. Any remaining are mine alone. There may be a few tweaks to wording, but no content changes. 
> 
> I’ve received the support of many reviewers. Mike3207, Arsinoe de Blassenville,Caraine,clafoung,SnowHelm,katdancer2,dustywalker, Easternviolet, ElyssaCousland, Nymra, ChaoticHarmony1991, EveHawk, susyjohn, Judy,maradeux,DjinniGenie,Pollyanna24, Contess. Others have followed and favorited the story or posted kudos. Thanks to all of you.
> 
> I created some appendices with commissioned art, timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure.


	3. The Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Begins: 9:18 Dragon 28 Solace === Redcliffe Castle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.
> 
> A/N: Please review, favorite and/or follow. As a new author, I welcome encouragement, suggestions, thoughts and critiques.

"Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…"  
That was Ferelden  
ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

 **Chapter 3: THE BOY**  

* * *

_“No, what I want is for him to be human.  I want him to be fully human and not in line for your throne, not competing with your other son and tied to this royal blood that has brought you nothing but grief.  I want him to have a fresh start.”_

Gaider, David (2010-04-01).  Dragon Age: The Calling (p. 443).  Macmillan.  Kindle Edition.

**9:18 Dragon 28 Solace === Redcliffe Castle**

The Couslands and Bann Teagan arrived at Redcliffe Castle at mid-day three days before Funalis.  Arl Eamon Guerrin's Seneschal provided the family with a pleasant apartment overlooking the lake.  Three rooms and a common area provided accommodations for the family, Freya, Nyla, Eleanor's lady's maid, Reine, and a manservant, Harry, for Bryce and Fergus.  Other servants found accommodation in the castle's servant quarters; the Guard shared space with the Arl's troops in the Redcliffe Barracks.

The mid-day arrival pleased Eleanor, as it meant she had plenty of time to bathe and dress for what would certainly be an overly formal dinner.  The guests could depend on Arlessa Isolde to ape the latest Orlesian fashions in food, ceremony, and dress or at least her interpretation of them.  While Eleanor avoided showing her dislike of the Arlessa, she made sure to dress in the latest fashions from Cumberland.  Isolde seemed to forget that her husband was not the senior noble in the land, even if the Arl was the Crown Prince's uncle.  Eleanor intended to remind Isolde, subtly, that two Teyrns outranked the Arl and that she, Eleanor, was married to one of them.

As Eleanor checked on Freya's progress with Lys' things, Lys ran in wanting her attention.

"Mum," Lys asked, "may I bathe later, please?  I want to see if Alistair is here.  My leggings and tunic are clean.  I promise I'll be back before you, Papa and Fergus go to dinner.  Freya can make sure I bathe later and not get in your way.  Please…"

Eleanor quickly stifled a grin.  Maker, this child could talk a beggar out of his coin.  Fergus would wheedle and whine.  Lys used logic and rational argument.  As usual, she had a good point.  Bathing and dressing minus one restless little girl would be far easier.  "Yes," she replied, "but only to the stables and you must be back here when the sun is still two hand widths above the lake."

"Promise, Mum.  Stables only.  No leaving the castle grounds.  Love you Mum," Lys yelled as she left the rooms.  Eleanor sighed.  One day she would learn to act like a lady, but as Bryce would point out, she only had a few years of childhood left.  Why not let her enjoy them.  It's not as if she didn't enjoy dressing up as much as she did sparring.  Her weaving skills equaled her skills as an archer.  He assured her it would all work out.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lys walked down the stairway to the first floor.  The rooms on the first level were mostly spacious public spaces, but also included the Arl's study, a library and access to the kitchens and servant quarters.  Lys slipped out a side door and headed toward the stables.  She groaned as she approached, hearing the strident, Orlesian accent of the Arlessa berating someone.  _Shouldn't she be supervising the dinner?  Why would she be in the stables?  Oh Maker, please don't let her be yelling at Alistair._

She remembered the Arlessa screaming at them last year when they had run through the square in the village splashing mud on the Chantry Sister by the Chanter's Board.  It had been an accident and no permanent harm had been done.  The Sister asked them to play elsewhere, but the Arlessa had not seen it that way as she stalked out the Chantry door.  Worse, she assumed, wrongly, that Alistair had led the group of local children and had purposely splashed the Sister.

At the Arlessa's order, her servant dragged Alistair away and she had not seen him for two days.  Lys had received a slap across the face when she tried to intercede.  Her parents had been unhappy when she told them how she got the bruise on her cheek.  They let the Arlessa know she was not to punish the Teyrn's daughter.  Isolde had responded tartly that if Melysande looked and acted like a Teyrn's daughter she would not have to slap her.  Then, Teyrn Bryce asked to see Alistair, but Isolde refused.  On his return to the stables, Alistair only said the Arlessa punished him, not what had transpired, but he was quiet and withdrawn for the rest of the visit.  Now, here she was again screeching at someone.

Lys at first decided to wait for the Arlessa to finish, then decided, _no, I'll just go see to Arrow's stabling. He's my pony and I should ensure he is taken care of_.  She boldly marched into the stable and looked for the Stable Master.  Spying him at the far end, she walked past the Arlessa, pausing to curtsy and say, "Good Day, my lady" before continuing.  The Arlessa's only response to Lys' civil greeting was a cold, dismissive glance.

"Hello, Master Wilmot."

"Yes, miss, can I help you."

"I hope so.  I am Lys Cousland.  We just arrived and I wanted to check on my pony, Arrow.  I believe he is stabled here with my father's horses.  May I see him?"

The master smiled, "Of course, my lady, I remember you from last year, although you've grown.  A good little rider, as I recall, and good about caring for your mount.  Your pony is right over there, in the stall behind the Arlessa.”  He lowered his voice, "but, between you and me, I'd wait until she finishes with Alistair.  It will go even worse for him if we annoy her further."

Lys' heart sank.  "What did he do?," she whispered anxiously.

"'Nought that I know of," the master replied.  "He's a fine worker and good with the animals.  Too often, it seems the poor boy only has to get up in the morning to anger the Arlessa.  But here, I'm talking out of turn.  Just come back to check your pony when Her Ladyship leaves.  Alistair was just seeing to your pony when the Arlessa came in."

"Maybe I can just wait over there," she suggested, pointing to the tack room, "that way I will be out of the way and I can check Arrow's tack and saddle."

"Good thought, my lady.  You'll know it's safe to come out when it gets quiet," he chuckled, walking into the blacksmith's across the stable yard.

_At least I can hear her from here._   Lys rolled her eyes.  _Like that’s a good thing?_

"…and what were you planning to do with the pony _bâtard_?  It shouldn't be in here with the horses taking up a stall.  Take it down to the village stable where it belongs.  We can't stable ponies; the King arrives tomorrow."

"But, Arlessa, the Teyrn…"

Her slap cut off any explanation he tried to offer.

Lys winced as she heard the sound.

"Do not interrupt, _bâtard_.  Go now and don't dawdle.  Remember what I said about staying away from the guests.  You'll find yourself in the cells again or worse if you disobey this year.  No one wants a _bâtard_ stable boy underfoot."

At that, Lys stalked angrily out of the tack room preparing to yell at the Arlessa, but stopped when she realized she would only make it worse.  _Be a lady.  Be polite,_ she thought.  _Catch bees with honey_.  She approached the Arlessa.

"Excuse me, my lady, but that pony is mine and Arrow is supposed to be stabled here with my father's other horses, as he and Arl Guerrin agreed.  Please speak with Teyrn Cousland before you change what he agreed with Arl Guerrin.”  She turned to Alistair, "Please don't take Arrow out of the stall until the Arlessa speaks with my father."

The Arlessa's already flushed face turned several more shades of red.  "And who are you, girl, to question the orders of an Arlessa?  I won't have some Bann's brat sassing me."

Lys took a deep breath and thought, this is a time to be the perfectly mannered young lady.  "I'm sorry, my lady, you are right I should not give him orders.  I did greet you when I came in, but I may not have made myself heard.  I thought you recognized me.  My apologies.”  She smiled and curtsied again.

"I am Melysande Cousland.  My father is Teyrn Bryce Cousland of Highever.  We arrived earlier and were greeted by the Arl.  I came to the stables to check on my pony, Arrow, with my mother's permission.  She is in our room getting ready for your banquet this evening.  I apologize for my appearance, but I'm still in my travel clothes.  I wanted to check on Arrow and give Mum a chance to rest before I cleaned up and changed."

Arlessa Isolde, hesitated.  She looked at the tunic and leggings, realizing they were of finely woven linen and bore the embroidered twin laurel crest of the Couslands.  The girl's manners and tone were proper as well.  The girl, Melysande, didn't deserve an apology, but if her father wanted the pony stabled here, and Eamon had agreed, she would have to allow it.  "Leave the pony, then, boy.  See to your other work," Isolde snapped at Alistair.

"Lady Melysande, I will speak with your parents.  Will you return to the Castle with me?"

"Oh thank you, my lady, but I have an apple for Arrow.  I'll visit with him and then return as I promised Mum.  Good day, my lady, I look forward to my visit here."

Isolde nodded, finding nothing to criticize in her response.  "As you wish.  Welcome to Redcliffe, Lady Melysande," she said, frowning slightly as she walked out.

Mel hesitated, peeking out of the stable door to make sure Isolde was truly gone, then turned to find Alistair staring at her from behind a stall door.  He looked just as she remembered him.  Taller, slender, dark blond hair with lots of red highlights and hazel eyes.  She also remembered a cheeky, infectious grin, but the Arlessa's tongue-lashing had left him looking chastened.  Right now, those hazel eyes appeared grey reflecting his disquiet at the Arlessa's cruel words.

"Well," she said, raising her eyebrows "that was a bracing start.”  She stifled a giggle and held out her hand, "Hello, Alistair, it's good to see you again.  Why is she always so unpleasant?"

He looked startled as she started laughing.  "And the accent, Oh Maker."

"Umm…my lady, are you alright?" the boy asked, his eyes getting bigger.

"She's just so … well, Orleeseean.  Alistair, it's me, Lys, and of course, I'm alright.”  She grew serious, looking concerned, "Are _you_ alright?"

He immediately straightened up, replying formally, "You're Teyrn Cousland's daughter, not someone I can associate with.  I am sorry my lady, but I have my chores and my instructions."

Lys stopped laughing.  "What she said about staying away from guests, you think that applies to me?" she objected, hands on her hips.  "Did she really mean it when she threatened you?  Will she actually put you in a cell?  Makers Hairy Fingers, I've been looking forward to seeing you again all year.  Alistair you're my friend.  I'll just help you do your chores and we can talk."

Alistair gaped.  "How do you do that?".

"What?"

"I'm not sure – you were just happy, angry, sad, friendly, curious – all in one go."

"You sound like my parents.  I do rant when I get angry.  Sorry, can we start again?"

"Alright," he responded warily.

"Hi, Alistair, remember me from last year?  Your friend, Lys, not my lady anything."

He smiled shyly then, "Hi Lys Not My Lady Anything.  It's good to see you.  I wondered if Arrow was yours.”  He got serious again. “  But I really can't spend time with you.  She expressly forbad it.  And… well yes, she meant it…the punishments.  If she doesn't punish me now, she'll just do it after the Tourney is over.  I'd like to be your friend, but I'm just some common bastard and you're…well you're a Teyrn's daughter."

Lys frowned and crossed her arms.  Now how do I fix this she wondered, I am a noble, but I have non-noble friends at home.  My plan has to be something that the Arlessa will accept.  She thought for a moment, then brightened.  "Well, I'll need a boy to escort me when I ride Arrow.  A boy who can ride, of course.  Papa can get a horse from the village for him, if the Arl doesn't have one.  I'll ask Papa to speak to the Arl about it.  I'm sure he'll agree if Papa asks.  You can't recommend a boy can you?  His name should be Alistair by the way.  I only accept Alistairs."

Alistair grinned, but looked skeptical.  "Well, I suppose I could find an Alistair.  If Arl Eamon tells me…well Alistair to escort you, he'll have to, I guess.  I still need to do my chores for Master Wilmot though."

"Well, of course, and I promised to help.  Don't look so worried.  You know I learned how to care for our horses at home.  Mum and Papa want us to understand the work that is done by our household, so I still stable my own pony.  You know I can muck out stalls and clean tack.  It will go much faster with two of us.”  She grinned and strode over to him. “  It's so good to see you again, Ali," she whispered as she gave him a big hug.

He stiffened at her touch and then slowly raised his arms to hug her back.  He could not remember the last time anyone had hugged him.  Well, he could, actually.  It was Lys, last year, when she left.  It felt good.  He always expected that she would forget him, but she never did.  Every year she came to look for him.  Then, today, she defended him against the Arlessa and looked at him as if he was the best thing that had happened to her all day.  She was so impulsive and friendly.  He would pay for it when she left, but he was starting to think any number of whippings would be worth it.

"So let me help you finish whatever you still have to do and you can tell me about your year," she continued, releasing him from her hug.  "Oh yes, and I brought you some cheese.  Our regional specialty, Highever Sharp and some Montfort Blue."

Alistair looked at her shocked, "You remembered I like cheese?"

"No," she giggled, "I remembered you _love_ cheese.  Honestly, I think you would betroth yourself to cheese if you could."

"Thank you," then he grinned cheekily, "I'll think about the betrothal.  Deciding which type will be most difficult, you see.”  They both giggled.

He pushed it back into her hands.  "You keep it for us.  If the Arlessa finds me with it, she'll think I stole it from the kitchens.  If we go riding, you can bring it along.  I … well the punishments aren't ... I'd rather avoid them.  She'll be angry no matter what, even if the Arl tells me to spend time with you.  But I'd rather one punishment at the end.”  He smiled grimly. “  It will be worth it."

Lys frowned, but decided not to pursue the subject of punishments any further for now.  "Let's get my Papa's horses stabled.  I'll help you clean the tack and put it away.  I saw it all piled in the tack room.  Cleaning tack always goes better with talk and cheese.”  When Wilmot returned he found Alistair and the girl, Lys, busily at work and chattering non-stop.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Returning from the stables after helping Alistair, Lys walked into the common room.  She gave Teyrn Bryce a hug and cuddled next to him on the settle.  "Papa, remember the boy, Alistair, from other years?"

Bryce looked up from the scroll on his lap, "Yes, the Arl's ward whom you liked so much.  Did you find him?"

"Yes, he was stabling Arrow and the Arlessa was screaming at him in her horrible accent.  The Stable Master, Wilmot, said he had no idea why when I asked.  He said that the Arlessa yells at him all the time for no reason.  Wilmot told me that he's a good worker.”  She paused for breath. “  No, Papa, wait I'm not finished," she objected as he began to respond.

Bryce smiled wryly, "Why does that not surprise me.  Go on, Pup."

"Well, the Arlessa ordered him not to associate with any visiting guests, including children.  She said no one wanted a bastard stable boy underfoot.  Sooo, I had an idea," she grinned as her father groaned.  "I need a boy to escort me when I ride Arrow or walk into the village.  Someone to carry packages, make sure I don't get lost or assaulted and generally guard me since I am such a fragile flower."

"Fragile Flower!  Lys, you are unbelievable, but I'll admit it's a cunning plan.  So what now?  Am I to speak with the Arl and get his agreement to Alistair becoming your companion?"

"Would you Papa?  Please.  I promised Alistair I would help him with his chores so Master Wilmot won't lose a stable boy.  It might keep me out of trouble.  Don’t forget, when we go to the Tourney he'll have to come with us and sit with me and carry my … uh… hold my cloak.  And, Papa, the Arl must tell the Arlessa that Alistair is following his orders and yours during our stay.  He must tell her that she isn't to punish him for doing as the Arl tells him."

"I'm not sure I can tell the Arl how to treat his ward, but I'll try to be persuasive.  Let me talk with your mother.  This will possibly annoy the Arlessa and I want her input.”  He headed toward the bedroom, then stopped. “  Do you think that the Arlessa might get angry with him after we leave?"

She hung her head, "She threatened Alistair with putting him in a cell or worse.  Alistair said she would.  He said spending time with me would be worth it.  Maybe, the Arl can make her be nicer."

Bryce sighed, "Let me talk to Ellie.  I'll speak with Arl Eamon tonight.  We'll let you know in the morning."

"He's a friend Papa.  Why is being with him so wrong?  I understand he has work, but as long as it gets done, how is it bad?"

Bryce wondered how to explain to an eight year old that an Orlesian married, in spite of the King's objections, to a Fereldan nobleman must feel vulnerable.  In addition, she surely thought the boy was Eamon's, and felt his presence accentuated her own childless state at thirty-two, after four years of marriage.  Isolde took her insecurity out on those around her.  Her Orlesian culture taught her to disdain her inferiors and inflict corporeal punishment when displeased.  It didn't make it right, but it did explain her arrogant, prideful behavior.

Bryce sighed and reassured his daughter, "No, Lys, to us and most Fereldans, it's not wrong, but not everyone thinks as we do.  What she does may not be right, but he is Eamon's ward and we can't interfere.  Let me talk to your Mum.  We'll figure something out."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. If you have time, please review. Book 1 may be complete, but I'm working on Book 2.
> 
> After completing Brief Shining Moments, I re-read and edited the entire work. From Chapter 14 on I had the support of my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion which resulted in far fewer errors. Any remaining are mine alone. There may be a few tweaks to wording, but no content changes.
> 
> I’ve received the support of many reviewers. Mike3207, Arsinoe de Blassenville,Caraine,clafoung,SnowHelm,katdancer2,dustywalker, Easternviolet, ElyssaCousland, Nymra, ChaoticHarmony1991, EveHawk, susyjohn, Judy,maradeux, DjinniGenie, Pollyanna24, Contess. Others have followed and favorited the story or posted to kudos. Thanks to all of you.
> 
> I created some appendices with commissioned art, timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure.


	4. The Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:18 Dragon Solace === Redcliffe Castle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

"Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…"  
That was Ferelden  
ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 4: THE SCARS**

* * *

  **9:18 Dragon 28 Solace === Redcliffe Castle**

Lys remained in their apartment while her parents were at dinner.  She wanted to see Alistair again, but not if he would get in trouble.  Her father would tell her, in the morning, if they could spend time together.  She read for a while, lying before the small fire, but grew restless.  "Freya," she said to her nurse, "I'm going up to the tower roof.  The stairs are at the end of this hall, so I won't be far.  I'll take a blanket, a skin of cider, apples and some cheese.  Will that be alright?"

Freya agreed, "Yes.  Thank you for asking, Lys.  I'm glad to see you acting so grown up this year.”  She smiled, "Just think we've been here for half a day and the Arlessa hasn't been in to complain about you yet."

Lys gave wrinkled her nose and gave Freya a sidelong glance.  "I can change that tomorrow if you like."

Freya laughed, "That's not necessary, my lady, just don't fall asleep up there.  Here take a candle and come back before it's burned down two marks."

Lys donned her cloak, headed down the hall and up the stairway to the roof.  Unlike the towers at Castle Cousland, which had trap doors opening onto the roof, this stairway ended on a landing or vestibule of sorts, with a door.  Before she stepped through, she put the candle in a nook on the wall.  She wanted to keep the roof darkened and the candle lit, out of the wind.  Stepping outside the enclosure, she found the heights breezy and the sky almost dark and very clear.  Moving to the edge of the tower, she sat on her blanket, which softened the hard stone floor.  A parapet ran around the tower's circumference.  Only the blocky, stone vestibule structure broke the alternating crenellations of the battlement.  She leaned against the wall and gazed up into the sky.  As night descended, a gibbous moon rose over the lake throwing her part of the tower into shadow.

Alistair crept up the tower stairway, carrying a blanket.  He would not be able to sneak through the guest quarters once all the guests arrived.  Tonight, however, the guests who had arrived were at dinner and he could avoid the few servants remaining upstairs.  The guests would, he hoped, sleep late in the morning after the heavy meal and days of travel, allowing him to make an early escape.  He often slept on this, the tallest tower, in summer.  Cooling breezes blew off the lake.  It felt safe lying under the stars.  He sometimes wondered if there were other worlds out there.  The Chantry said that their world was the center of the Maker's creation and that everything in the sky revolved around it, but he wasn't sure he believed everything the Chantry said.

Alistair noticed the candle as he passed, but didn't see anyone when he opened the door.  Someone must have checked the roof earlier and left it, he thought.  He curled up against the battlement wall in the moonlight.  Happily, the stone still held the sun's warmth.  He would be cold later, even with his thin blanket.  He unwrapped the bread and apples he had liberated from the kitchens.  Fortunately, the cooks had been so distracted serving dinner, they did not see him sneak into the larder.  As he took a bite of the apple, he heard a rustle from the darkness.

"Who's there?" he whispered getting up to look around.  Seeing nothing, he walked back to his blanket, his night vision not yet fully adjusted after the bright candle on the landing.  He started to sit on his blanket and yelped as he landed on a leg.  "Maker, who is that?"

Lys giggled, "I have apples and cheese too.  And some cider.  Shall we share?"

"Lady Lys?"

"No!”  Lys complained. “  Lys, just Lys."

"Touchy, aren't you My Lady Just Lys."

"I am when my friend insists on using a title," she retorted and sniffed.

"Oh, Maker, you're not going to pretend to cry aren't you?"

"Well if it would work.  You can't see me pout in the dark."

"It won't," he assured her.  "Unless you want to scare me and watch me run away, screaming."

Lys giggled again, "No that would be the opposite of what I want."

Alistair settled back.  "What are you doing up here?  Rooms too hot?  Straw sticking to your arms?  Oh wait, can't be, you stay in the castle and sleep on mattresses."

"Is that why you're here?  You're going to sleep up here?  It is lovely and cool.”  She leaned back against the battlements next to him. “  I came up to look at the stars.  I promised to go back before the candle burns past two marks."

"Ah, that explains the candle.  Yes, I sleep up here in summer.  At least when I think I won't get caught.”  He was quiet for a while. “  I like to look at the stars too.  There are so many.  Sometimes I wonder if there are other places like Ferelden out there.  I wish I knew more about them."

"Well, perhaps not like Ferelden.  I'd like to think other worlds would be different.  I think there are other worlds out there.  There must be if there are so many stars.  I could send you a book," Lys offered.

"About other worlds?"

"No, silly, about stars.  They form patterns called constellations.  The constellations have names."

Alistair was quiet.  I…um… don't read very well."

Lys looked at him surprised.  "The Arl doesn't send you to school?  I thought you were his ward."

"No, well yes I am his ward.  He did have Sister Eleutheria try to teach me, but she complained so much that he agreed to stop the lessons.”  He rubbed his hand through his hair remembering her daily complaints to the Arl.

" _Aleestair iss amposseebley stupeed, un cretin.  I cannot anstruct a fool complet,_ " he said, imitating the Orlesian Sister in a high squeaky voice.

When she stopped laughing, Lys asked, "So did she instruct you in Orlesian?  Maybe that was the problem."

He chuckled ruefully, "If only.  In the Common Tongue with the accent and some Orlesian thrown in every so often.  She's right though, I couldn't do any of the work she gave me."

"That's hard to believe, Alistair.  What did she complain about besides you being _un cretin_?  Which you are _not_ , by the way."

"That I couldn't read any of the passages of The Chant I was to memorize.  I didn't understand any of the arithmetic problems she gave me."

"She started you with the Chant and problems?  She didn't teach you your letters and numbers first?"

"No, she said I was doing easier work than what they taught at the village Chantry school.  That's why I couldn't go there with my friends.  I'm too far behind and too slow."

"That doesn't sound right," Lys responded, frowning.  "Maybe she's a bad teacher.  Everyone goes to school in Highever and they all learn to read and figure.  You're smart.  I don't believe you can't learn," she responded.

"I'm smart?  That's an interesting thought," he said, catching her frown as he finished.

He quickly changed the subject.  "Highever must be a wonderful," he marveled, going back to her comment that everyone went to school.  "I bet you don't put your people in the dungeon cells or whip them as much as we do here."

Lys sat up, "You are smart and we don't whip anyone ever.  Castle Cousland has an old dungeon, but only Fergus and his friends go down there and only on a dare.  No one gets locked up there.  That's what the guard posts are for."

Alistair looked at her disbelieving, "If Arlessa Isolde caught me here with you, I'd be in the cells before you made it to your room.  I'd be whipped in the morning.  You don't do that in Highever?"

"Maker no.  Why would she punish you for being here with me looking at stars and eating apples and cheese?"

"It's inappropriate.  Arlessa Isolde is very proper and pious.  It's bad enough I've invaded the castle without permission.  But, well , you're a girl, a noble, I have food I stole from her kitchens and she told me to stay away from guests."

"Invaded and stole?  That's absurd.  You live here.  You're Arl Eamon's ward."

"Yes, well, that's the problem.  I'm Arl Eamon's ward.  She thinks he's my father.  He's not," he added quickly.  "I'm not entitled to take food or be in the castle, at least not since she arrived."  He looked at Lys. “Or talk with noble girls.”

"That's horrible, but I am a girl – see I knew you were smart.”  He rolled his eyes as she continued. “  We're children, Alistair.  What could we possibly be doing wrong?  I know Fergus might get in trouble if he was up here with a girl, but they're grown up and would be touching and kissing and all that silly stuff.  We're kids.  We're eating cheese.  My cheese, by the way, but all kids raid the larder.  It may be wrong, but it's hardly a major crime.  My father said you could play with me.  And you don't harm anyone by coming to the roof."

"Wow.  You're good at speeches, My Lady of the Vocabulary."

She stuck her tongue out at that remark.

"So your mother and father would think this was fine," he challenged.

"Yes, Alistair, they would," she replied.  "In fact, I'll tell them you were here when I go back.  They know you're my friend, they know I like to star gaze and they trust me to do the right thing."

He became very quiet.  "Alistair," she asked after a while, "are you alright?  My parents won't tell the Arlessa."

"Yeah," he whispered.  "It's just so different from my life.”  She took his hand and leaned against him, as they both settled back against the parapet.

"Let's just enjoy the night, then.  I wish I could fix it for you, but I can only be your friend."

"Thanks, for being my friend.  I'd like to be your friend too.”  He was quiet again.

"Alistair, did Arlessa Isolde really lock you in the dungeons and have you whipped?"

"Yes.  She puts me in a cell without food or water for a day sometimes.  It's…well I try to be brave, but it's dark and scary down there.  I don't cry anymore though.  I think that makes her angry too."

Lys shivered at the thought of sitting alone, locked in a dark place for a day.  "Who whipped you?"

"One of the servants."

"With his hand?"

"No.”  Alistair hesitated, "With a switch or a whip.”  He grinned weakly, "I guess that's why they call it a whipping, right?"

"Not funny, Ali," She responded.  It was Lys' turn to hesitate.  "Di…does it lea.. leave marks?"

"Yep."

"Where?"

"My bottom and back."

Lys grimaced, then asked, "can I see your back?"

Alistair pulled away.  "Why?  You think it’s fun to look at the stupid stable boy's scars?"

"No!  Of course not," then added gently, "I just...need to see them."

He sighed deeply, "You don't believe me, right?  Sure, why not.”  He lifted his tunic. “  I didn't lie, Lys," he whispered.

Lys inhaled sharply, but reached out to touch the fine ridges across his shoulder blades.  He shivered at her touch.  "Oh, Ali, how can she be so cruel?  No one in Highever would treat a child like that, not for any reason.  I'm sorry, I couldn't believe she could do this.  Does the Arl know?"

He shrugged.  "I don't think he cares.  She does what she wants."

"Didn't she have the mage healer heal you afterward?  You shouldn't have the scars."

"No, there is no mage healer here.  Arlessa Isolde would never allow a mage in castle.  Mages are evil and should be imprisoned or killed.

"They are not evil!”  Lys objected. “  Nyla is not evil.”  She saw his confusion. “  Nyla is a free mage and our household healer.  She's with us now."

"You brought a mage into the Castle?  Aren't they all locked in Kinloch Hold?”  His face reflected his astonishment. “  Does the Arlessa know?"

"Nyla is a part of our household.  Our family has always had a household mage healer.  Why would the Arlessa need to know.”  Lys thought for a moment, "I don't think Nyla can heal scars though."

Alistair stiffened.  "Heal me?  A mage?  With magic?  No, no need, really.  Master Wilmot takes care of me.  He uses the salve and poultices he has for the horses.  It works.  I've only had an infection once.  That time the Arl did have a Chantry healer see me.  He made the Arlessa stop the beatings for a while, but the next time he went to Denerim, she just started again."

Lys frowned.  She wasn't sure what he could do, but she would tell her father.  Better not tell Alistair, she decided, he'd probably make her promise not to.  She took his hand again.  "Ali, I'm sorry."

"Why, it's not your fault," he mumbled.  _Time to change the subject, but I can't think of a joke._   He tried a different tack.  "Would you tell me about Highever?"

"What would you like to know?" she looked puzzled as she settled back against the wall.

"What does it look like.  It's on the coast, right?  I've only been out of Redcliffe once, when the Arl took me to Denerim, but I didn't see much.  I rode in the cart with the hounds and took care of them.  Denerim is big.  The Arl has an Estate there.  When the King visited for dinner, the Arl brought him out to see the hounds.  I had to stay away, but I saw him from the loft.  He's very tall."

He stopped.  "I'm babbling aren't I?  It's all the talk of magic.  Makes me nervous.  Does your mage turn people into toads?"

"You are babbling," she giggled.  "You're teasing right?  Mages don't do that.  Nyla is a healer.  I'll tell you about Highever if you want.  Or do you want to keep on insulting Nyla?"

"Highever, please.  Sorry, I didn't mean to insult your mage.  I was teasing about the toad thing."

"Mages aren't scary Alistair.  They're people like you and me.  They just have a different gift."

"A gift?"

"Yes.  Some people can sing, some can draw and some can do magic.  We all have some gift."

Alistair frowned, "That's a different way to look at things.  Nicer than the Arlessa's."

"Well, that has to make it good, right?"

"Absolutely.  Now, tell me about Highever, My Lady of the North.  I don't want you to be angry with me."

Lys grinned in spite of herself.  At least he listened and thought about what she said.  "So, Highever," she began.  "I had to write an essay describing Highever for Aldous, our tutor.  I'll see if I can recite it for you."

She cleared her throat and sat up straight, " _Highever borders the Waking Sea.  The Cliffs of Conobar are very high with lots of caves, which are fun to explore.  The coastline has coves for swimming when the water warms in late Justinian.  There are seals in Highever harbor and sea lions on a beach west of the Castle.  Seagulls, puffins, cormorants, all kinds of birds soar over the coast and make their homes in the cliffs.  The Sea changes all the time.  In storms it's grey, on sunny days in summer it's blue, in winter more green and at night it's as dark as the sky.  You can't tell where the sea starts and sky ends if it's calm with the stars reflected in it._ "

She stopped her recitation, "you can't see across it you know, it's much bigger than Lake Calenhad."

Alistair's eyes widened as he imagined a body of water larger than the lake.

“Sailors and merchants come from all over Thedas to Higheverport.  Rivainers, Antivans, Nevarrans, Marchers, even some Orlesians.  And, of course, we have boats at the Castle docks too.  I've sailed since I was little.”  She looked at Alistair, "but you must have sailed too living on the Lake."

"I have," Alistair replied, "I've sailed a few times, but never by myself.  One of the fishermen's sons was a friend and his father sometimes took us out.  It's fun, like flying almost with a strong wind."

Lys grinned, "It is like flying, just on the water not in the sky.  I don't sail alone yet.  There are a few small islands near the coast.  Fergus goes out on his own or with friends.  I'm not allowed to yet, mostly 'cause I'm just not tall enough and strong enough."

"So, you sail and you ride?  How about flying?"

"Actually I have flown," she said quite seriously.  It was true of course, but it had not been in Ferelden.

"Now you're teasing me, My Lady Who's Done Everything."

"Yes, I do ride," she replied.  "There are open lands along the coast.  They're perfect for riding.  There are small farmholds, but most farmholders use the land for grazing horses and sheep.  The best horses in Ferelden come from Highever." she proudly claimed.

"And the best fleece.  Mum works with the Cloth Merchants and the Spinners, Dyers and Weavers Guilds in Higheverport.  Her work encourages more spinning and cloth production in Highever.  Trading cloth brings in more profit than trading the raw fleece," she added knowingly.  "I've been helping.  I spin and weave pretty well actually."

"Spin and weave?  That's unexpected."

"Why?"

"Well, I guess I see you more as a Battle Maiden, like Queen Rowan.  Riding, sailing, archery, sparring with blades…flying."

Lys hit his arm.

"Ow!  Hurt.  I'm hurt.”  He laughed. “  You punch pretty hard."

"Don't you dare say 'for a girl', or I will punch hard.  It's bad enough you think I can't do things like spin, weave and enjoy dressing up?”  She glared at him, "do you think I can’t do those things?"

"I'm guessing the right answer is no, I don’t think that?"

"Of course it is.  I can do whatever I put my mind to.  I love clothes and fabrics.  Freya says I clean up very nicely," she said smugly.  "Besides, I need to understand how to keep Highever prosperous.  I'm a Cousland.  It's my duty to our people."

"How do spinning or weaving do that?"

"Alistair, spinning and weaving provide products for trade.  Trade is important to Highever and to Ferelden.  Trading cloth is much more profitable, than trading whole fleeces and woolsacks.  My mother and the Arlessa of Higheverport have worked hard, since the Rebellion ended, to establish the Cloth Merchants' Guild and the Weaver's, Spinner's and Dyer's Guilds.  Now that Pippa and I are older, we work with our mothers.  Knowing how to spin, weave and create colors for dying is important work.  Sorry, I'm preaching.  I guess.  I sound like Mum."

"It's interesting.  Another good speech too.  Don't hit me, I bruise you know.”  He pretended to cower against the parapet, while she crossed her arms, frowning and trying not to laugh.

"It is interesting, just not things I usually think about.  I…we don't have sheep here…or horses, except in the stables.  I never thought about trade.  I guess the Arl does.  It's not something a stable boy needs to understand I suppose.  You do learn battle skills though, too right?"

"I do practice my battle skills.  Orlais will always present a threat.  Orlesians need to know that no matter how wealthy we become, we are vigilant and strong.  I'll join our Guards when I'm older.  Brigands and bandits will always infest some parts of the Coastlands.”  She wrinkled her nose, "Sorry, preaching again.  It's the Cousland duty thing."

"Trade and the economy, the Guards…  I guess I never thought about anything outside the stable and kennel, My Lady of the Spindle, Loom and Bow.  Here I thought as long as I kept White Knight’s stall mucked out all would be right with the world."

Lys tried to look annoyed, but couldn't quite stifle a giggle.  "Well, every contribution is important, my Papa says.  Afterall, Redcliffe's farmers need manure to grow their crops for trade.  I'll call you Ser Alistair of the Compost."

"Great, that's so…good-hearted of you," he replied dryly.  "I'd actually like to know about the wider world and have a choice about what I do.  I didn't choose to be an illiterate stable boy, you know."

Lys didn't know how to respond.  The Arl was so unfair to him.  "I know," she murmured.

"Who's Pippa?" he asked, gently, noticing her discomfort and changing the subject again.

"Pippa, Philippa Broughten, is my closest friend, a sister really.  She's the daughter of the Arl and Arlessa of Higheverport.  Her mum and mine are cousins."

"Oh.  I see.  It must be nice to have a best friend.”  He looked away, but not before Lys saw the emotions flash by.  Sadness, loneliness, anger, perhaps a touch of jealousy.

"Ali, you are my friend too, we just don't see each other very much.  I wish I saw you every day too.  Papa would make sure you went to school and learned from the Arms Master."

"Tell me more about Highever.  Is there a forest or mountains?"

Lys went along.  "Yes, of course.  In some places, the forest comes down to the sea.  In others, the open land stretches back to the Coast Range.  They're not as high as the Frostbacks, of course, but they're still mountains.  There are several passes into the Bannorn from the Coastlands.  We hunt in the forests.  There are lots of deer and some boar.  I'm not allowed to hunt boar yet, of course."

"Boar, I've never seen one.  Have you?"

"I have.  Boar are huge with great long, tusks and very dangerous.  They're like large pigs really.  Very _large_ pigs.  They're fast and nasty when they're angry.  Fergus killed his first one a few months ago."

"So you hunt?"

"Of course.  Mum is an expert with her bow.  I've learned to shoot as well, but I like my blades.  Our Arms Master says I'll be a good dual wielder and Fergus has been teaching me forms.  I'll try to practice while I'm here.  You could practice with me," she invited.

"I could?  I don't have any training or a practice sword.  Maybe I can borrow one from the Armory and you could teach me."

"Well, of course you can, if I say so," Lys assured him.  "I can teach you some forms, when I practice mine."

She realized the moon had moved well above the horizon.  "Ali, I need to check the candle.”  She went into the vestibule.

Returning, she said, "I need to go, Ali.  I need to keep my promises to Freya, so I don't get in trouble."

She bent down and kissed Alistair on the cheek.  "Good night, Ali, I'll leave my blanket for you.  Leave the cider skin and blanket here.  I'll get them in the morning."

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

With that, she was gone, leaving Alistair wondering if he had only dreamed her.  _She could be overwhelming, but in a good way_.  _I wonder what it would be like to have a best friend, people who loved you, and choices.  Someday, maybe I will be lucky enough to have someone love me_.  He pulled Lys' blanket over him and crumpled the edge in his fist as he curled up to sleep.

Lys, remaining on best behavior, returned just as the candle burned down two marks.  Freya looked up approvingly from her sewing.  "I'm beginning to think you are growing up Lyssie," she greeted her.  "Or should I be worried that you're planning something?"

"No Freya, I'm not.”  Lys protested. “  Although, it's true, good behavior could be a diversion.  I should tell you that Alistair came up to the tower when I was there.  I didn't know he would.  He sleeps up there sometimes in warm weather."

She frowned, "I have a question, Freya.  Are we so very different in Highever?  I mean, all our people go to school and can read and figure.  We don't' whip them or lock them up or even yell at them very much.  They seem happy and they seem to do their work well.  When I go to the Guilds with Mum, they seem to really like her, not phony like her.  Am I wrong?"

Freya looked at her surprised, "what brought this on?  No, Highever is not unique.  You've seen Rainesfere.  It's very similar.  So are Waking Sea and South Reach."

"Yes, but now I'm here and it's _not_ the same."

"Are you saying the Arl whips his people, locks them away and yells at them?"

"Maybe not the Arl, but the Arlessa does.  I know she yells and is nasty, because I've heard her.  She threatened to lock up a person and told him she would whip him.  And…I know he's been whipped.  I saw the scars on his back."

Freya looked at her concerned, "Who has been showing you his back.  No man should be doing that."

"It wasn't a man, Freya.  It was a boy.  A boy my age.  Alistair.  I can't imagine Papa or Mum whipping a child."

"Whipping a child, Lys?”  Eleanor said, "What in Thedas would make you say that?"

Lys whirled to face her parents as they came in from dinner.  "The Arlessa had Alistair whipped.  We, well, I went up to the tower to star gaze.  Freya knew where I was," she added defensively.  Freya nodded behind her.  "Alistair came up.  I didn't know he was coming.  He sleeps there in warm weather if he can sneak into the castle, 'cause it gets hot in the stable and all the straw sticks to him."

She stopped to collect her thoughts, "Anyway, we talked and he admitted she had him whipped.  I, well, I didn't believe him, so I asked to see and hurt his feelings."

She got more passionate as she continued, "Mum, he has scars on his back.  And they don't have a mage healer.  The Arlessa thinks mages should be locked away or killed!  And they don't give him healing poultices.  The Stable Master puts salve on them; the same that he uses for the horses."

She turned to her father, "Papa, Alistair can't read or figure.  No one teaches him.  Why are the Arl and Arlessa so mean?  He … he's one of the nicest people I know.  He's wonderful and kind and fun and smart and they treat their animals better than they treat him.  Why?"

Bryce and Eleanor looked at each other.  Sadly, Alistair's situation had deteriorated during the past year.  "I'll speak to Teagan and Loghain," he said quietly.  "I don't think he knows."

"Who?  Who doesn't know, the Arl or Bann Teagan and why Teyrn Loghain?”  Lys demanded.

"Don't worry about it, Pup.  I want some advice from Teagan and Loghain.  I'll speak to Arl Eamon too."

He paused, "Oh, and I did talk to Eamon about Alistair accompanying you.  He agreed it was a good idea for you not to wander about alone," Bryce said with a smile.  "So, you have a companion for the rest of the visit.  Eamon has a horse for Alistair to ride.  I'll check it out to be sure it's appropriate.  If not, I'll get a horse from the stable in the village.  Now, off to bed young lady, its late."

She ran over to hug her parents.  "Thank you so much.  I didn't realize how lucky I am.  I'll try to deserve it, truly I will.”  She pulled away. “  He's very special.  I like him a lot.  No one should be treated the way she treats him, but especially not Ali."

Eleanor watched as she went off to her room with Freya.  She turned to Bryce.  "She's growing up, but I wish it wasn't this harshly.  This can't be what Maric intended for him, Bryce."

Eleanor thought about the unspoken risk – magic.  She knew magic often manifested when a child became overly emotional, particularly angry.  Anger about unwarranted punishment, such as that meted out by Isolde, would be a catalyst that could cause magic to manifest.  If he was a mage, his magic should have already shown.  Even so, she supposed, eight was too young to assume he wasn't a mage, so even if Maric meant to acknowledge him, it wouldn't happen for years.  Yet, he must be a wonderful boy, as Lys said, if she liked him enough to defend him.  Lys always had good instincts about people.

"No, I don't think so either, but let's tread carefully.”  Bryce responded, interrupting her thoughts. “  It won't do for Bryce Cousland to show too much interest in Maric's illegitimate son.  I'll speak with Teagan in the morning.  I'll talk to Loghain, once he arrives.  Better to go through him, than to King Maric directly I think.

"Also, don't mention magic or Fiona.  I don't think Eamon, or even Loghain, knows as much as we do.  Fiona and Duncan landed at Higheverport because it was familiar to Duncan.  They knew we were friendly to Grey Wardens, unlike the Howes, and wholly loyal to the Theirins.  Duncan knew we would keep the babe's existence secret, but it's one more reason we need to be careful.  Maric's never been comfortable that we know he's half-elven and possibly a mage."

Eleanor pursed her lips thoughtfully, "Yes.  I just feel so badly for that poor little boy.  He probably has no idea who he is or why he's treated like a pariah.  I know Fiona was a mage and he has to be watched in case he manifests magic, but not in such a cruel manner.  Surely, that is not what she or King Maric intended.  And if Eamon and Isolde don't even know…,It's as if Eamon wanted to punish him for his parentage, although he was born well after Rowan died.  I just want to take him home and love him.  "

Bryce wrapped his arms around his wife.

"These are the times I wish we could just transport him to Areth and let him live a life free of all this.  Give the boy some choices.”  He felt his wife shift. “  No Ellie, you know perfectly well we can't do that."

"I know," she replied, "damn _The Rule_ , it would be nice to help him escape."

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. If you have time, please review. Book 1 may be complete, but I'm working on Book 2.
> 
> After completing Brief Shining Moments, I re-read and edited the entire work. From Chapter 14 on I had the support of my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion which resulted in far fewer errors. Any remaining are mine alone. There may be a few tweaks to wording, but no content changes. 
> 
> I’ve received the support of many reviewers. Mike3207, Arsinoe de Blassenville,Caraine,clafoung,SnowHelm,katdancer2,dustywalker, Easternviolet, ElyssaCousland, Nymra, ChaoticHarmony1991, EveHawk, susyjohn, ,Judy,maradeux,DjinniGenie,Pollyanna24, Contess. Others have followed and favorited the story. Thanks to all of you.
> 
> I created some appendices with commissioned art, timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure.


	5. The Conundrum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:18 Dragon 29 Solace === Redcliffe Castle and along the Shores of Lake Calenhad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

"Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…"  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 5: THE CONUNDRUM**

* * *

**9:18 Dragon  29 Solace === Redcliffe Castle**

Bryce and Teagan walked out to the Practice Yards ostensibly to watch Fergus sparring against a Highever Guard.  "So, there was something you wanted to discuss, Bryce?"

"It's a bit touchy, Teagan, so tell me to stop if it's out of line.  It's about Alistair."

"Ah," Teagan shook his head sadly, "yes, that problem.  Isolde thinks he's Eamon's son and between that and her childless state, she is unhappy and takes it out on the boy.  Eamon thought keeping him in the stables would quiet things down.  It did for a while, but she always seems to find the child has committed some new offense."

Bryce gaze was just short of a glare, "Well, then perhaps you or Eamon could explain exactly what offense an eight year old boy could commit that would warrant a whipping that left scars on his back or being locked in a dungeon cell for twenty four hours with no food or water.”  Displaying his anger, he continued more intensely, "exactly what offense warrants that level of punishment, Teagan?  Because for the life of me, I can't think of a Maker damned thing.”  Teagan paled and stepped back.  He'd realized he'd never seen Bryce Cousland angry and he was sure, now, that he didn't want to.

"Bryce, I…I'm not sure how to answer.  You're telling me Eamon has him whipped?  And locked in a dungeon cell?  Who told you this?"

"My daughter, Teagan.  My eight year old daughter," he repeated, "who heard Isolde threaten both whipping and caging and who saw - _saw_ \- the scars on the boy's back.  I checked with the Guard and confirmed the incarceration."

"Maker's Breath, Bryce I had no idea.  I don't know if Eamon knows either.  Although, my brother is capable of extensive blindness where his wife is concerned.  I take it you think it should be raised with the King?"

"With Loghain, first, I think.  He knows the details I believe?  Who Alistair is."

Teagan shrugged, "I know who his father is.  I suspect his mother is not a wayward maid who died, but as to who she was, I was never told.  I take it you know?"

Bryce nodded yes.  "Did you know he wasn't being educated?  He can barely read or count Lys says.  He's had no martial training either.  I thought he was to have a trade or be capable of joining the Guard or Army or becoming a knight?"

Again, Teagan shrugged.  "I thought that Sister Eleutheria, the Redcliffe Chapel Sister, started teaching him a year ago.  As for a trade, I don't know for sure.  I can only tell you, I offered to foster him or have one of my farmholders or knights foster him and Eamon declined in no uncertain terms.  I thought getting him away from Isolde would be sensible, but he didn't agree.

"Bryce, I'm sorry but I can't provide much help here.  He's Eamon's responsibility.  And until the King changes that, he will remain here.  All you can do is speak with Loghain and King Maric and let them know the situation.  It will be up to King Maric to force Eamon to make changes.”  Teagan's laugh came out as a harsh bark, "Of course, there is no love lost between Loghain or King Maric and Isolde.  That she is the culprit may help the boy."

Bryce looked at Teagan, "Look, sorry if I came across too strongly.  Lys likes the boy and I trust her judgment of people, young as she is.  He deserves better.  It's really that simple.”  He smiled ruefully, "and if I don't act, my wife and daughter will and we definitely don't want that."

Teagan laughed, "Well, they might do what's best for the boy, so maybe we do.”  They looked at each other sadly, "but that might cause more trouble than we can handle.  Good luck, Bryce.  Let me know if I can help or just stand with you.  He's a fine boy.  He should have some choices beyond the stable."

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

King Maric, Crown Prince Cailan and Teryn Loghain Mac Tir arrived together while Teagan and Bryce were discussing Alistair.  The King's apartment was in the family wing providing spacious quarters for him, Cailan and their retinue.  Teyrn Loghain's rooms were in the guest wing near the Couslands.  As he was settling in a dark head poked around the half open door.  "I hear you Lys Cousland.  You're not nearly stealthy enough to fool me."

Lys grinned, "I wasn't trying to be stealthy, Teyrn Loghain, and you certainly weren't, clunking around in your plate.  If I didn't think it would injure me, I'd give you a hug."

Loghain looked up from his unpacking, "Well then thank the Maker I'm wearing it, I'm not sure I could survive a Cousland hug."

Lys feigned sadness, "Oh, and I was so looking forward to a Mac Tir hug."

Loghain grinned and strode over, "Alright, one hug, Lady Melysande.  I promise my armor won't injure you."

She threw her arms around his neck as he lifted her up in a bear hug.  "King Maric will give me two hugs," she assured him.

"Well, he's King, he can afford two hugs.”  He put her down.

"So, my lady, have you been annoying the Orlesian?  How many times has she complained to your mother since you arrived?"

Lys grinned smugly, "None.  I've been developing a strategic plan to irritate her, so I've ignored the tactical attacks for now."

He shook his head in surprise, "Lys Cousland you always surprise me.  So what is this great strategic plan about?"

"Well, there is a boy here who is my friend.  I met him two years ago and he's my age and fun and smart and I was looking forward to seeing him again.  When I got here I went to the stables to find him, but the Arlessa was in there yelling at him and threatening to whip him and lock him in the dungeon.  And before you say maybe, he deserved it, I asked the Stable Master what he did and Master Wilmot said he'd done nothing wrong.  Wilmot said he was a good worker, but that the Arle… the Orlesian dislikes him.

"Then I heard the Orlesian," she grinned as she repeated Loghain's title for the Arlessa, "tell him to stay away from all the guests.  She said no one wanted a bastard stable boy underfoot.  Then she yelled at him for letting a pony in the stalls and told him to get it out and take it to the village stable.  When he tried to tell her it was my pony, she slapped him and yelled some more."

Loghain frowned.  "And yet Arrow is in his stall and you say the Arlessa hasn't complained about you.  Tell me you didn't react."

"Of course I reacted.  I just thought about it first.  I almost messed up and yelled, but I thought it through.  I decided to be very, very polite and respectful.  I let her know who I was and that Papa and the Arl had agreed my pony could be stabled there and that I was so sorry for being disheveled, but we had just arrived and I had let my mother alone to rest and get ready for the big dinner while I checked my pony."

Loghain laughed.  "Lys you amaze me.  You actually charmed the Orlesian.  I'm not sure who you take after more, Bryce or Eleanor.  You seem to be the best combination of both.”  He sat on the chair by the fire and invited her to join him in the other chair. “  So who is your boyfriend?"

"He's a boy and a friend, Teyrn Loghain.  He's a stable boy and his name is Alistair."

Loghain's smile faded.

"What's wrong?  Are you going to tell me not to befriend a stable boy?"

"No Lys, of course not.  But tell me, does the Orlesian always treat him badly?"

"Well, it's very different here.  The Arl doesn't send his people to school or, if they're smart and deserving, make sure they train for a trade.  Alistair is smart and fun, but he can't read or figure and he expects to remain a stable boy.  Isolde tells him he's too stupid to be anything else, but he's not.  And she whips him and locks him in a cell sometimes without food or water.  He has scars on his back.  I made him show me 'cause I didn't believe him.  I hurt his feelings.  He thought I was his friend, then I didn't believe him after I made him tell me."

Loghain looked at her thoughtfully, "Did you tell your father about this?"

"Of course, but I don't know what he will do.  The boy is the Arl's ward, so we can't really interfere," she said sadly.

"He did talk to Eamon about my pony and suggested Alistair be my companion, since I'm a helpless girl and need someone to keep me safe.”  She gave a self-satisfied grin, as Loghain snorted with laughter.

"It was my idea, but Papa thought it a good one, proposed it to Arl Eamon and the Arl agreed.  So Alistair and I can spend as much time together as we want with the Arl's blessing.  We're riding after mid-day bells once he finishes his chores in the stable.  Do you want to come with us?  He said he knows a nice trail along the lake."

She looked out the window and realized the morning was passing.  "Oh, Maker, I'm late.  I promised to help him with his chores so they would be finished before our ride.  He'll think I forgot.  I just wanted to say hello when I saw you here.  And I took up your time too."

Loghain smiled, "Lys, you never take up my time.  I don't tolerate people I don't want to see, you know that.  And yes, I'd like to ride with you and your friend.  I'll see you at the stables a mark after mid-day?"

She got up and hugged Loghain again.  "Ooh a second hug," she said, as he hugged her back.  "Now, King Maric must hug me three times.”  She started toward the door.

"I'll see you in the stables.  And Teyrn Loghain, thank you for listening.  I really did pay attention when you told me about tactics and strategy and thinking through my actions."

He smiled, "I would say you applied the lesson very well.  Perhaps better than I would have.  Now go and muck out a stall for your friend.”  Wrinkling her nose at the command, she then grinned and ran off.

He watched her hurry out and settled back in the chair.  He admired the manner in which Bryce and Eleanor had raised their children.  Both Fergus and Lys were expected to pitch in and learn the jobs their household performed, to care for the people in their service, to know how to take care of their horses and dogs and to understand the work the people of the Teyrnir did.  Fergus became part of the Teyrnir's Guard and was expected to work his way up to a captaincy; Lys, if she chose, could do the same.  Then there was Eleanor's work with the Guilds, promoting cloth manufacture and trade.  He knew Lys helped there, as well.

He regretted not raising Anora in a similar fashion.  She had been isolated with Celia and him in Gwaren, then with Celia alone after Rowan died and he began spending most of his time in Denerim with Maric.  Anora joined him in Denerim when she was twelve, after Celia died.  By then, she had become a serious, solitary child and he was hardly an example of conviviality.  Unlike Celia, Anora's reserve often became haughtiness, particularly when not in Gwaren.  Lys and Fergus had an ease and confidence about them with nobles and common folk alike that Anora lacked.  Yet, neither Cousland forgot who they were or where their duty lay.  Somehow, the Couslands all walked the fine line between noble arrogance and familiarity.  Bryce and Eleanor were the same, so apparently they had been raised in a similar way.  Or, perhaps, their roles in the Rebellion had tempered their noble views.

He knew King Maric wished he had fostered Cailan with Bryce and Eleanor for a few years.  It was too late now, Loghain feared.  Not that Cailan was averse to learning about what Fereldan's did for their living.  He could be friendly with his future subjects when he chose.  He was just too immersed in his myths and stories, without the firm grounding in reality the Cousland children appeared to have.  Maker knows, Lys loved stories and history.  She just didn't expect to be the main character in one, writing some glorious new chapter.

At least Cailan and Fergus were good friends.  Cailan had come to accept Fergus’ teasing and challenges.  Fergus did not coddle Cailan in the Practice Yard or at games.  Yet he always deferred to Cailan as the Crown Prince.  Another fine line walked by a Cousland.  Cailan would need and benefit from Fergus' support one day.

_Well,_ _a ride with Lys and with Maric's illegitimate son should be interesting_.  The few who knew called him King Maric's bastard, but Loghain preferred not to.  That would brand  the boy with his parent's act _._   The boy was not at fault.  Nor did he deserve the treatment it appeared he was receiving at Eamon and Isolde's hands.  _Maric expects Eamon to educate him and fit him for a trade or train him as a knight.  It’s past time when he should learn to read, write and figure. There’s no reason to withhold all martial training.  They should see where his talents lay and be ready to direct him.  And the beatings and caging, Maker, that was just cruelty.  Well, I’ll find out what the boy’s made of later today_.

**9:18 Dragon 29 Solace === Along the shores of Calenhad**

Alistair trailed behind Lys and Loghain.  _I feel like a groom, not her friend._   He worried about Lady Isolde's reaction, but the Teyrn and Lys had invited him and the Arl had assigned him to accompany Lys, so he had no choice but to be here.  _I can’t ride with the Teyrn like I would with a friend.  I’m just the stable boy.  I was stupid to think I could be her friend._ He raised his eyes and pulled his horse up to avoid running into the Teyrn, who had stopped.  _Maker, pay attention_.

"Sorry, Your Grace, I was not attending to my task.  May I do something for you or Lady Melysande?"

"Alistair, you're here to ride with us not two lengths behind.  I can't talk to you back there.”  Lys complained.

Loghain looked sympathetically at the boy.  Clearly, he felt unsure in Loghain's presence.  "Lys, why don't you ride ahead and find a place to stop to eat?  I'll ride with Alistair."

Lys started protest, then complied, catching on to Loghain's plan.  "Of course, Teyrn Loghain."

Loghain waited for Alistair to come even with him before he rode on.  "You know, I wasn't always a Teyrn or the so called Hero of River Dane.  I grew up on a small farmhold.  It wasn't until I chanced to meet King Maric that my life changed.  Even so, sometimes I enjoy just being Loghain and riding along a lake with friends."

The boy looked up at him.  "I don't mean to be disrespectful, Your Grace, but I'm not your friend," he responded politely.  "Lady Melysande calls me her friend.  Truly, I'm just a stable boy."

Loghain took a deep breath and continued, "You must understand, if you are a friend of Lys' you are my friend.  Lys is a special person, I think you know that.  She considers you a friend.  She cares about you and she worries.  I'd like to help if I can."

Alistair flushed.  "Your Grace, I need no help.  The Arl kindly gives me shelter.  Nothing about my life will change once you all leave.  I'll be the stable boy.  Even if the Arl says I should ride with Lady Lys, Arlessa Isolde will be displeased that I acted above my station."

"Alistair, I can decide if you are acting inappropriately or "above your station" – what a ridiculous Orlesian concept," he snorted.

"The Arlessa may not punish me while you are here, but she will remember all my failings and punish me for them after you leave.  It's not too bad when the Arl is here, but when Arl Eamon goes away…  I've said enough I think."

"Alistair, has Eamon told you who your father is?”  Alistair stiffened and looked fearful.  The Arl told him never to mention his father's name.

"Arl Eamon told me.  He said I was never to mention it to anyone.  That I was inconvenient, an embarrassment to the K…my father."

"Alistair, King Maric is my good friend, as well as my King.  I am well aware he is your father.  He does not consider you an embarrassment or inconvenience.  There are reasons, grown up reasons, he can't acknowledge you."

"Oh.  Well…Arl Guerrin…when he spoke to me…he made it perfectly clear that I am a commoner, a bastard and entitled to nothing.  He feeds me, provides clothes and a bed to be kind, since my mother was part of his household.  I have no expectations or prospects.  I understand that.  I… it's not something I repeat…Lys …we haven't spoken about it."

Loghain regarded him approvingly.  "Lys does not know who you are and you're right, you shouldn't tell her.  The Orlesian…the Arlessa… doesn't either.  King Maric wouldn't trust her with that knowledge.  You should understand, Eamon takes care of you because King Maric asked him to.  The King does care how you are treated."

"I…he didn't tell me that."

"Alistair, I can make a difference for you.  In fact, I will.  I will make sure you go to school.  I will make sure you have a trade or profession.  I will make sure the Orlesian stops tormenting you.  Your life will be better.  Now, let's catch up to Lys.  She can hear the rest of my suggestions without mentioning your father."

Alistair regarded the older man wondering how much he could do.  It's true, he was reputedly King Maric's boon companion.  It was said he spoke for King Maric, but would Arl Eamon and Arlessa Isolde listen, much less obey, once the King went back to Denerim?  King Maric did not visit Redcliffe very often.

The King did not like Isolde and had opposed the marriage for quite some time.  Eventually, however, he had given in.  Why would this be any different.  Regardless of what Teyrn Loghain said, Alistair believed that he was just an inconvenient boy the King would rather forget.  He sighed.  It would make Lys feel better, so he guessed he should go along.  As Loghain looked back, motioning for him to catch up, he spurred his horse forward.

"At least you can keep your seat," Loghain chuckled enigmatically.  Alistair regarded him quizzically.

They rode up the trail and found Lys waiting on a high point overlooking the lake.  She'd placed a blanket on the ground next to a log.  She grinned as they rode in together.  "Well, glad to see you two are friends now."

They dismounted and secured the horses.  Loghain sat on the convenient log and observed the two children pulling out the food Lys brought, while teasing each other.  He was a pleasant boy, respectful and well behaved.  Loghain decided to offer his plan and see how the two received it.

"Tell me what you think of this plan," Loghain began.  "I'm sure the Orlesian spends very little time in the Practice Yard or Guard's mess.  Am I wrong, Alistair?"

"No, Your Grace, she has very little to do with the Guard.  Arl Eamon only speaks with the Arms Master and Guards Captain, he rarely visits the mess.”  Loghain snorted and thought that is not surprising.  Eamon never had the charisma his sister showed during the Rebellion.

"I think Alistair should start eating in the Guards mess and training with the Guards.  I think the Arms Master will be agreeable, as will the Guard Captain.  I'll speak to them, of course.  I suspect you could even sleep in a room off the Armory.  Perhaps you could help the Arms Master, instead of stable duties.  What do you think?"

Alistair stared wide eyed at Loghain.

"Teyrn Loghain, that's brilliant," Lys whooped.  "Ali, it's perfect.  You can learn to care for weapons, learn your forms, get a practice sword and spar and avoid the Arlessa.  But what about school?  Ali should learn to read and figure too."

"We will work that out too.  The local Chantry must have a school in the village.  Alistair?"

"Yes, they do, but I'm not allowed to go there.  Sister Eleutheria tried to teach me last year.  She said I was too stupid to learn and that I would misbehave and disrupt the class.  When my friends began school, the Arlessa told the Chantry sister I wouldn't attend, that Sister Eleutheria would teach me here."

Loghain frowned, "You are not stupid or badly behaved, Alistair.  You will attend the Chantry school with your friends."

Alistair looked from Lys to Loghain, "I don't know what to say.  Thank you.  It sounds like a good plan.”  He hesitated, trying not to appear skeptical.  He tried not to think of the possibilities the Teyrn's offer promised, but failed, "I'd like to learn to be a soldier, I think.”  He smiled his shy grin, "maybe even a knight?  And I'd really like to learn to read, write and do my numbers."

"Good," Loghain smiled, "that's settled then.  I'll talk to Eamon and we'll make it work.  Now let's see what we have in this pack.  Ah, honey cakes, apples, cider and cheese.  Do I have to share this?"

"Teyrn Loghain," Lys scolded, "of course you do.  Besides there is far too much food for one person, unless that person wants to get fat!”  Lys leaned over and grabbed Alistair's hand pulling him onto the blanket next to Loghain. “  Come on, this is for you too.  But you can't have all the cheese.”  Alistair blushed, while the Teyrn looked puzzled. “  He loves cheese," Lys explained to the Teyrn.  "I mean really loves cheese.  He might marry some cheese."

She looked at the embarrassed boy, "Alistair, I'm sorry, I'm teasing you.”  She gave Loghain a sharp look, "And before Teyrn Loghain tells it, I should admit I feel that way about honey cakes," she giggled. “  We can have a cheese and honey cake wedding."

Alistair relaxed, as Loghain groaned.  Lys continued, "Ask the Teyrn, I ate a whole plateful of honey cakes once when I was little.  I was very sick in front of the Teyrn, the King, my parents and all these other nobles during Summerday in Highever.  I stole the plate from the table, crawled underneath and stuffed myself.  When I crawled out, I stood up, felt very ill and immediately lost everything all over the lawn.  My mother was mortified.  I wasn't allowed a honey cake for years!"

Alistair tried to imagine a younger Lys being sick in front of the entire nobility of Ferelden and struggled not to laugh, until he saw the Teyrn chuckling.

"Go ahead.  Laugh.  I've been teased about it ever since I was four.  I'm surprised Teyrn Loghain didn't mention it right away.”  She smiled at the Teyrn, "Thank you, good sir.  Fergus is horrible about it.  Everyone says getting sick should have cured me of my love for honey cakes, but it didn't.  I still can't resist at least one," she said as she took one from the food sack.

She turned to the Teyrn, "Thank you, Teyrn Loghain, for helping Alistair.  I knew you'd like Alistair once you met him.  Now I won't have to worry about him when I go home."

The conversation among the three of them eased as they enjoyed the food.  Lys convinced Loghain to tell a favorite story from the Rebellion.  Alistair, hearing it for the first time, surprised Loghain with perceptive questions and the three of them ended up discussing battle strategies.  He began to understand why Lys found the boy so appealing.  He was smart, personable, quick and, unfortunately, had his father's quirky sense of humor.  Soon, they were teasing each other like old friends.

As they rode back, Alistair slowly withdrew.  Loghain turned to him.  "Alistair, I know it's hard to go back, but you have two weeks with Lys.  We'll ride again.  And I promise, you will spend the tournament sitting with the Couslands whenever Lys is with her parents."

Alistair looked at him, still unsure.

"Your schooling will start after Lys leaves.  In the meantime, we'll get you started with the Guards, but no daily duties until after the Tourney."

"I… tha…  Thank you, Your Grace," Alistair stammered.

Lys smirked, "See, I told you I would be your friend.  You need to believe in me."

Alistair looked at her gratefully, "Lys, I won't ever doubt you again.  It's just, what I wanted never mattered before to anyone.  You're the first person who ever wanted to help and could.  I'm usually just a nuisance or worse.  Thank you."

Lys leaned over from Arrow and put her hand on his, "Ali, you're my friend.  I'd do anything for the people I love.  And now Teyrn Loghain is your friend too.  We may not be here all the time, but we're still your friends.  If you're in trouble we'll always help."

He looked from Lys to Loghain, who nodded in affirmation.  "Thank you, both.”  Then he grinned rather cheekily at Lys, "Well, next year be prepared.  I intend to knock you on your arse in the Practice Yard, Lys Cousland."

Loghain burst out laughing.  "I will be here to see that Alistair," he chortled.  "Lys needs someone to challenge her."

Lys bristled, "Don't count on it Alistair of Redcliffe.  I'll not be bullied by your threats.”  Then she laughed too. “  Really, I hope you do, because that will mean Loghain's plan worked."

They continued back to the stables, where both Loghain and Lys saw to their own horses with Alistair's help.  Loghain watched the boy approvingly.  He knew his way around the stable, he was conscientious in stabling his own horse and stowing the saddles and tack for cleaning.  Eamon's neglect of Alistair was unforgiveable.  What he couldn't understand was why?  Well, first, he would talk to King Maric about his plan, and then once Maric agreed he'd make sure Eamon carried it forth.  He must remember to talk to Bryce as well.  He was sure Lys' recounting of Alistair's mistreatment spurred Bryce to action.  They should work together on this.  Perhaps he should catch Bryce before dinner to stave off any conversations between Bryce and King Maric or Eamon.

As he strode back to his room, Bryce called out to him.

"Loghain, good to see you.  I'd like to speak with you before dinner if you have the time."

"I do, Bryce, and I need to speak with you.  I suspect the topic is the same.”  Loghain grinned. “  Lys can be very persistent when she has a cause.  In fact, I've just returned from a ride with her and the boy."

Bryce groaned, "I should have guessed she would speak with you.  It's a good thing you tolerate her so well."

"Your daughter is very special, as you well know.  And, I tolerate nothing and no one if I choose not to, as you also know.  Lys is a friend.  And she expressed valid concerns.  He appears to be a fine boy."

"Yes, yes, you’re right of course, Loghain, her concerns are valid.”  Bryce smiled, "I brought a bottle of Antivan brandy.  Perhaps I can bring it to your rooms in a candle mark and we can discuss this."

"Ah, your Antivan connections, Bryce.  A fine brandy does appeal after a long day.  Yes, give me some time to clean up, then we can meet before Isolde overwhelms us with her Orlesian specialities."

Bryce laughed.  "Maybe we should eat in the Guards mess."

"Don't tempt me," Loghain growled, heading to his rooms.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. If you have time, please review. Book 1 may be complete, but I'm working on Book 2.
> 
> After completing Brief Shining Moments, I re-read and edited the entire work. From Chapter 14 on I had the support of my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion which resulted in far fewer errors. Any remaining are mine alone. There may be a few tweaks to wording, but no content changes.
> 
> I’ve received the support of many reviewers. Mike3207, Arsinoe de Blassenville,Caraine,clafoung,SnowHelm,katdancer2,dustywalker, Easternviolet, ElyssaCousland, Nymra, ChaoticHarmony1991, EveHawk, susyjohn, Judy,maradeux,DjinniGenie,Pollyanna24, Contess. Others have followed and favorited the story or posted kudos. Thanks to all of you.
> 
> I created some appendices with commissioned art, timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure.


	6. The Solution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:18 Dragon 29 to 30 Solace === Redcliff Castle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

"Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…"  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 6: THE SOLUTION**

* * *

**9:18 Dragon  29 Solace  ===  Redcliff Castle**

At Loghain's invitation, Teyrn Bryce entered his rooms carrying a bottle of the promised Antivan brandy.  The rooms were opposite the Cousland apartment and also faced the lake.  A slight breeze disturbed the fine linen curtains at the window.  Two chairs flanked the table in front of it.  Two more chairs, with cushioned seats, faced each on either side of the hearth.  A wooden settle, placed several feet back, stood between them.  Shelves and cabinets lined the wall on either side of the fireplace.  No rugs or rushes covered the bare wood floor.  Spare, but comfortable, the room suited Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir.

Bryce sat in the chair cross from Loghain and poured two glasses of brandy.  Loghain picked his up and saluted, "To Lys, may she always do the right thing and keep us all honest."

Bryce raised his glass, "To Lys."

"So," Loghain continued, "I assume she told you the same disturbing tale she told me regarding Alistair?"

"She did, whippings, caging him, no schooling….  I find it hard to believe Eamon could be so negligent.  I suspect the worst is at his wife's behest, but he has to be complicit.  I must ask, does King Maric enquire about him?  Or does he simply trust Eamon to do the right thing?"

Loghain shifted in his chair, "King Maric limits his enquiries.  As long as Eamon says the boy is doing fine, he asks no other questions.  I suppose I am remiss in not following up, but like you, I assumed Eamon would adhere to Maric's expressed desire to see the boy raised away from court, but with education and training.  Plainly, the boy has been neglected and mistreated."

"I spoke with Teagan earlier.  He's been aware of the problem, although not of the severity of Isolde's punishments, for some time.  He even suggested that Eamon send the boy to Rainesfere for fostering, either with him or with a farmhold family.  Eamon refused.  It seems whatever the solution, it will have to come from King Maric to make Eamon change."

"I agree," Loghain replied, "and I've already come up with a plan, although I've yet to discuss it with Maric.  I will and I'm sure he'll agree.”  He sipped his brandy.  "I rode with Lys and the boy today.  Alistair is indeed a bright, personable, capable youngster.  Very much his father's son, for good or ill.  Even has that damnable Theirin sense of humor, which fortunately, Cailan lacks."

Bryce chuckled.  "I rather enjoy King Maric's humor."

"You would.  You Couslands suffer from a similar strain of foolishness.  It's Lys' one weakness.”  He drained his glass and Bryce poured another round of brandy.

"So what is your plan, Loghain?"

"To remove the boy from the Arlessa's view, yet keep him here in Redcliffe.  I suggested to Alistair that he eat in the Guard's mess and begin staying in the area of the Practice Yard and Armory.  I'll speak to the Arms Master and Guards Captain.  The boy can pick up duties in the Armory, begin arms training and sleep in the Armory.  Of course, I'll tell Eamon, but I expect him to agree."

"I'll also inform Eamon that Alistair must begin schooling immediately with no interference from the Orlesian.  He should attend the Chantry school with the other local children, not be isolated in the Castle.  I'm willing to let the Orlesian believe he's my bastard if it will keep her away from him.  I refuse to let her know King Maric is the father.  I don't trust the woman."

Bryce raised an eyebrow.

"I know, I know, Loghain's paranoid fear of Orlesian conspiracy.  She may love Eamon and he her, but I still distrust her.  I'd remove the boy if I thought King Maric would agree, but he won't.  He believes Eamon, as Cailan's uncle, has no cause to oppose him with Alistair.  Redcliffe's remoteness adds to Maric's preference for Eamon as guardian.  I fear Eamon would use Alistair, under Orlesian influence, to oppose Cailan in the future, but my concerns have not been accepted."

"I understand we need to anticipate and protect against future threats, but is that likely?  Afterall, Maric has a point, Cailan is Eamon's nephew; Alistair is a ward, for whom Eamon has little affection.  The circumstances would have to be extreme to make Eamon act against Cailan."

"I agree," Loghain conceded, "but Isolde…what might Eamon do for love of his young wife?"

Bryce sighed, "So fostering him with Teagan might be a goal in the future.  He could squire there, perhaps."

Loghain nodded in agreement, "A good thought.  Let's get this plan in action, and then work on getting Maric's agreement to squire him away from Redcliff."

Bryce considered Loghain, "Gwaren would be the other option, of course.  We'd love to have him in Highever, but I think that's out of the question.”  Bryce hesitated with his next thought, "Will King Maric acknowledge him eventually?  Give him some lands and make him a bann?"

Loghain shrugged, "He hasn't thought that far ahead.  I think it would be wise.  Again, we'll have to work on the proposals, as the boy gets older.  And, yes, Gwaren or Rainesfere provide sufficiently remote settings, which would be appropriate.  In Highever, he'd be far too visible.  Personally, I like the Rainesfere option.  Teagan's a good man and already fond of the boy.  It would be a comfortable transition for Alistair and less threatening to Eamon, but we get ahead of ourselves.  I'll talk to Maric in the morning.  We meet for early breakfast.”  Loghain considered Bryce for a moment.  "Perhaps you should join us.  You know of Alistair's parentage.  Maric should know we agree on this plan."

Bryce stood.  "I'm up early as well.  Knock when you are ready to leave and I'll join you."

Maker be damned, but I like the man.  Bryce and Eleanor had fought valiantly during the Rebellion, barely surviving White River.  Afterward, they returned to Highever to rule the Teyrnir with grace and skill.  Highever's industry and trade made it the wealthiest and most stable of all Ferelden's regions.  Gwaren was stable but lightly populated.  Its only product, lumber, shipped from its only seaport, Gwaren.

Of all the nobles to accept his elevation to the Teyrnir of Gwaren, Bryce Cousland was the last one he expected to accept him unreservedly.  He assumed the Teyrn of Highever would see him as an upstart and a rival.  Instead, Bryce and Eleanor welcomed him, assuring him the honor was more than deserved.  Bryce would laugh and say no God had ever descended to beget a noble line and that every noble line in Ferelden had a commoner at its root, including Calenhad’s.  Then he would wish the Mac Tir line the staying power of his own Cousland heritage.  It's a combination of skill and luck he'd laugh.  Lots of luck and the skilled progeny to make the best use of it.

Loghain often thought that he and Bryce, as King Maric's two closest advisors, balanced each other and the King well.  Bryce was thoughtful, skeptical, diplomatic, favoring trade and international alliances and able to see the big picture from a governing and economic view.  Loghain viewed the world more suspiciously, seeing Orlesian influence behind ever bush according to King Maric.  But his ruthlessness, suspicions and military strategies balanced Bryce's more consensual approach.

Bryce wanted trade and an improved economy.  He felt a strong Ferelden rested more on economic self-sufficiency and trade, than military might.  Military strength, he believed, would follow from economic success.  His push for diplomatic alliances and trade agreements often met with opposition from Loghain.  Trade admittedly played an important role in the Highever Teyrnir's economy given Highever's position on the Waking Sea.  The Teyrnir included two of Ferelden's four ports.  Bryce conceded the regional interest, but argued all of Ferelden benefitted from more open trade policies.  Gwaren, itself, was a port and lumber a key trading commodity.

Loghain conceded that Bryce's diplomatic and trade initiatives rarely included Orlais or Tevinter.  Highever traded with Nevarra, the Free Marches, Rivain and Antiva.  The Couslands refused to trade with the Imperium or in any way support the slave trade.  Trade with Orlais existed, but mainly for some of the luxury goods even Fereldans coveted.  Most of this trade was indirect, through Nevarra, a state that distrusted Orlais as much as Ferelden did.

While he understood Bryce's arguments and did not question his loyalty, Loghain did not always agree with his aims.  Any relations with Orlais, direct or indirect, were to be avoided.  Orlais was the paramount enemy, never to be trusted.  In this, he and King Maric disagreed as well.  King Maric continued to pursue an Orlesian peace treaty, with hopes for improved relations.  While the disagreements were at times deep, they were friendly.  He couldn't imagine a time when that would change.

Loghain was not introspective, but occasionally he would marvel at his position.  The King and the scion of Ferelden's senior noble house were his friends.  He had the power to command a powerful Arl to do his bidding, as the representative of the King.  The people, foolishly, he thought, revered him as the Hero of River Dane.  What would his father, Gareth, think?  Or his mother?  He shook his head; too much brandy, he thought.  Better head down to the dinner he dreaded.

**9:18 Dragon 30 Solace === Redcliff Castle**

In the morning, Loghain  knocked on the Cousland's door shortly after sunrise.  Bryce answered and stepped out to join Loghain.  The two Teyrn's walked to the King's apartments.  On entering, King Maric greeted Loghain and Bryce, already expecting that both men would join him for breakfast.  He motioned them into a smaller room and closed the door.  "I don't expect Cailan to be up for hours, but sometimes he surprises me" the King quipped.  Growing more serious he continued, "I'm guessing this is a conversation he should not hear."

Both Loghain and Bryce replied, "Yes."

"So, this is about the boy, my…son, Alistair?”  The two Teyrns nodded.  Loghain then related Lys' tale of the Arlessa's cruelty and his own experiences with the boy the day before.

King Maric squeezed the bridge of his nose, and then ran his hand through his hair.  "I'm sure you know this is not what I intended and certainly not what his mother wanted.  Maker, he'd be better off at Court.”  He thought for a moment, then turned to Bryce and Loghain.  "So I assume the two of you have a plan?"

"We do," Bryce replied.  "As I am sure you can imagine, my daughter will implement one, if we don't.”  King Maric laughed, as he speared a sausage.

"Of that I have no doubt," he laughed, "probably abetted by your wife.”  He sobered , "So she has befriended the boy?  He must be something special, if that's the case.  Your Lys rivals Loghain in her intolerance for fools.”  He looked at his two closest advisors, "I wish I could do more …I'd like to know him better, but it's just not possible at this time," he pursed his lips and shook his head slightly.

"King Maric, if I may," Loghain interrupted.

"Of, course, Loghain, proceed with your proposal.”  King Maric turned to his meal as Loghain spoke.  Bryce sipped tea, declining mead or ale so soon after the heavy meal and drinks of the night before.  From the King's careful comments, he deduced that Loghain did not know the boy's mother was a Grey Warden, called Fiona or that she was an elven mage and, Maker forfend, Orlesian.  He understood, as Loghain did not, that King Maric's concern was magic.  If the boy manifested magic, he would go to the Circle of Magi.  King Maric did not want his parentage know if that happened, for the boy's sake and Ferelden's.

"First, I am working on the assumption that you won't move Alistair from Eamon's guardianship.  If you would consider…"Loghain halted as King Maric held up his hand and shook his head no.

Loghain proceeded to outline his plan for Alistair, which effectively removed him from the Arlessa's purview.  He emphasized that he believed Alistair should attend the Chantry school in the village with other children.  King Maric sat thoughtfully for a time after Loghain finished.  He turned to Bryce.

"You agree with this plan?"

"Yes, Your Majesty, I do."

"Well then, gentlemen, proceed.  I will speak with Eamon this morning and emphasize that you speak for me in this.”  He turned to Bryce, "I'll expect to see him _serving_ as Lys' companion during the tournament.  They are young; it can't hurt at their age to form a friendship.”  He smirked, "We all know of Highever's egalitarian attitudes, so it won't seem too abnormal to find him in the Cousland box."

Bryce bowed slightly, "I'll let Lys and Alistair know to behave circumspectly.  He's already been assigned to accompany her when she rides out from the Castle.  It will seem a natural extension.” 

Loghain snorted, stifling a laugh.  Both men looked at him.

"Lys Cousland behaving circumspectly?  You've both had too much of Bryce's Antivan brandy.  Alistair, however, seems able to influence her, so perhaps she won't devise a plan to embarrass the Orlesian in front of all the gathered nobility.”  It was clear he would not condemn such an act.

"Alistair can persuade Lys to behave circumspectly?”  King Maric marveled.  "He must be quite extraordinary.”  Bryce groaned.

Loghain laughed, "Not always, but he does have a way of calming her down when she's at her most impetuous."

King Maric and Bryce laughed, with Bryce promising to emphasize to Lys that Loghain's plan required appropriate behavior on her part.  The men turned to their meal, as the King sent a messenger to Eamon requesting Eamon join him in his rooms.

Bryce and Loghain left the King to his correspondence and walked toward their rooms as Eamon approached.  Eamon halted, surprised to see both Teyrn's so early.

"Good morning, Your Graces," he greeted them tentatively, using formal address.  "I hope your early presence does not indicate some crisis?"

Both men smiled, "No, Eamon," Loghain assured him cryptically, "no crisis as you would define the term.  We don't believe the Orlesian attack will come until next week."

Eamon stood stunned, while Bryce tried not to collapse laughing.  "I'm joking Eamon.”  Loghain stated, satisfied with the response his jape has elicited.

The Arl looked sick, unable to believe a joke from the taciturn Teyrn was possible.  Loghain continued, "We will want to speak with you later this morning, but we won't delay you now.  The King awaits you, I believe.”  Bryce and Loghain strode off, leaving a bemused and apprehensive Arl in their wake.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Eamon entered the King's apartments and was ushered into the meeting room.  The door shut firmly behind him as he greeted King Maric.  He shifted from one foot to the other.  King Maric appeared annoyed as he stood before the fireplace.  He did not invite Eamon to join him at the table, now cleared of food and spread with correspondence.

Facing Eamon, King Maric glared.  "You and you wife mistreat my son, Eamon.  It will stop.  Loghain and Bryce will meet with you later this morning to inform you of my plan for Alistair's education and training," King Maric paused to contain his anger.  "You will follow the plan with no exceptions or excuses.  You will inform your wife not to interfere _in any way_.  Am I clear?  Isolde is to stay away from Alistair."

Eamon swallowed.  King Maric was angry.  "Yes, Your Majesty, I understand."

"Do you?  Do you know your wife has caged Alistair in your dungeon without food and water?  Do you know he's been whipped?  Do you know he has scars from these whippings?”  King Maric hissed.

Eamon stepped back from King Maric's wrath.  "I… no Your Majesty, who told you such falsehoods.  That is not possible.  Isolde dislikes the boy.  She thinks he's my byblow, but she wouldn't harm him."

"Your ignorance of what happens under your roof does you no credit, Eamon.  He.  Is.  My.  Son.  Bryce and Loghain have seen the scars.  The dungeon jailers confirmed the caging.  My son – _My Son_ \- has been cruelly mistreated under your care.  It. Will.  Stop.  I repeat, am I clear?”  He waited until the Arl expressed his assent.

"Yes, Your Majesty,"

"Your Orlesian wife, however, will never be trusted with his true identity.  You will control her without divulging that I am his father."

"Ye…  Yeesss, Your Majesty.  I will not tell her.  I will see no further punishments occur at Isolde's direction."

_What has she done?_   _She carried everything too far._   He'd hoped to bury the boy among the lower serving orders claiming he was too stupid to serve at any higher capacity.  Now, Isolde's punishments had done what he most wanted to avoid, they brought the boy to the attention of King Maric and the two Teyrns.  He suspected that brat Lys Cousland was involved.  Isolde was right, allowing a young noble girl to run wild, train with weapons, ride around the countryside unescorted was madness.  What were Eleanor and Bryce thinking.

"You will do more than that Eamon.  You will follow my instructions _exactly_.  Loghain and Bryce will present the plan to you later.  It is not negotiable.  There will be no deviations or exceptions.  I will accept no excuses for your failure to comply with it.  I will require monthly reports of the boy's activities be sent to Loghain and Bryce.  You may expect both to monitor the boy's progress.”  King Maric scowled at Eamon. “  Also, you will allow Alistair to accompany and serve Bryce's youngest, Lys, during their stay.  I understand you already agreed he should accompany her on rides out of the Castle grounds.  He will also accompany her to the Tourney and all other events.  Again, this is not negotiable.  It is agreed.”  King Maric turned back to the fire. “  You are excused, Eamon."

Eamon bowed, "Your Majesty," and left.  I _knew it.  This all started with that damn Cousland brat.  And with Isolde's excesses.  Now I have to deal with Isolde's tantrum when I tell her the King's orders._   Eamon scurried off to this study on the lower floor to await the inevitable visit from Mac Tir and Cousland.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The King's plan shocked the Arl.  He leaned forward in his chair to address the Teyrns.  "I'm not sure the boy is ready for the changes you propose," Eamon objected.  "He's a stable boy with no letters.  He's certainly not ready for arms training.  This is madness.  It will be a huge distraction for my Guards and Arms Master.  He barely functions as a stable boy now.  He's slow, not at all bright."

Loghain looked at the Arl in disbelief.  "Have you met the boy, Eamon?  He is certainly bright, personable and more than ready for schooling and training.  I went riding with Lys Cousland and him.  Have you?"

Eamon sat back, nonplussed.  "You rode with him?  Why?"

Loghain took a deep breath.  "Because I had reports he was being mistreated.  I wanted to see him for myself, before I spoke with the King.  I found him intelligent, competent at his duties and a good companion.'

Bryce confirmed Loghain's observations.  "I wouldn't allow the boy to accompany Lys if he were a fool," he added.

"I believe," Loghain continued, "King Maric explained to you that his plan was not negotiable?  Was that not clear to you?  If so, I'll let the King know he needs to clarify his instructions."

"No, no that won't be necessary.  Perhaps I underestimate the boy.  He's always been troublesome.  I realize Isolde has been over zealous in her punishments, but his bad behavior requires correction.  Perhaps the Guards influence will accomplish that.  It's certainly a more structured environment."

Bryce eyed the Arl speculatively, "Eamon, he's a boy of, what, eight?  He will be mischievous on occasion.  Children of that age are.  I don't think the King envisions him living under a strict martial schedule.  I agree some structure will benefit him, but breakfast, school, dinner, chores in the Armory and then some training and a few free hours after supper will suffice.  He's a boy, he should have time to play with other children and time to himself.  I realize you don't have children yet, so perhaps you don't realize what a young boy needs."

"So you propose to set the boy's schedule?  He's just to live here under my roof, eat my food, distract my Guards, disrupt castle life and I'm to have no control over him?"

Bryce groaned to himself.  Eamon's pride overshadowed any common sense at times.

Loghain glared at Eamon, "Until you and, more importantly, _your wife_ , prove yourselves capable of treating him as King Maric wishes his son be treated, yes.  We will outline his activities, his schedule and we will monitor his progress.  He has scars, Eamon, from the whippings your wife ordered.  She refused him treatment for the wounds.  The Stable Master treated him with animal salve.  You know this.  You had a healer treat him when they became infected.  Don't play us for fools Eamon.

"The only person who complains about Alistair is your wife.  The Stable Master has no complaint with his work; the cook claims he raids the larder less than the other servants do.  Exactly what did an eight year old boy do to warrant beatings and imprisonment?"

Eamon shifted uncomfortably, "I was away when those happened I suspect.  Isolde reported he'd been disrespectful to her, stolen food from the kitchens, sneaked up to the tower roof in the guest wing and many other infractions."

Loghain snorted and Bryce glared.  "So, he was punished for being a normal eight year old boy.  Whipped for snatching a handful of cheese?  I suppose you and Teagan never did any of those things?"

Eamon sighed, "Isolde has … standards.  He was told not to engage in those activities and he persisted."

"Enough, Eamon," Loghain growled, "the punishments stop now.  The plan goes into place now, starting with Alistair acting as companion to Lys during the Tourney.  Eamon, you can speak to your wife, or we will.  Your choice, but if you speak with her make it clear that this plan will be followed.”  The Arl grunted his agreement. “  And Eamon, she is not to know the identity of his parents.  That continues to be King Maric's wish.  Feel free to confirm it with him if he has not spoken of it already."

"I understand, she is not to know his parentage.  I'll speak with her."

"Good," replied Loghain.  "I suggest you and I speak with your Guard Captain and Arms Master today."

"As regards his schooling, however, I have a suggestion," Eamon interjected.  "The Sister who serves the Castle is qualified to teach the boy his letters and numbers.  Perhaps she can teach him for a year until he has rudimentary skills.  Once he can read simple sentences and count he can join the primary class in the Chantry school."

"I'd like to meet her," Bryce noted, "but I strongly prefer the Chantry school option, to allow him to be with other children.  What do you think, Loghain?"

"I'll leave that choice to you Bryce.  Maybe you should take Lys along when you talk to her.”  Loghain saw Eamon stiffen and refrain from making a remark.  He saw Bryce also noted the Arl's reaction.

Bryce smiled, enjoying the Arl's discomfiture, "Not a bad idea.  I may do that.  I'll certainly take Eleanor."

Loghain stood.  "I think we're done here.  Eamon, can we see your Guard Captain and Arms Master now?”  Eamon stood and the three men left for the Guard barracks.

To Eamon's surprise, neither the Guard Captain nor Arms Master objected to Loghain's plan.  Both actually seemed to like the boy and thought he would benefit from training.  The Arms Master actually looked forward to having him work in the Armory, saying Wilmot would miss him in the stables.  He added that a small room in the Armory could be made into a bedroom, stating the barracks was no place for a boy of eight.

As they returned to the Castle, Bryce suggested they meet the Sister Eamon mentioned, if only briefly.  He and Eleanor could return later with more questions, as he was sure Eleanor would want to help.  Eamon, hesitated, then assented taking both Loghain and Bryce into the Castle Chapel.  Sister Eleutheria sat in a small study.

"Sister, if I may interrupt, I have with me Teyrns Mac Tir and Cousland.  We would like to speak to you regarding the boy, Alistair.”  The Sister looked up, annoyed.  She did not stand to meet the Teyrns.

"What has the boy done now?"

Loghain stiffened at the thick Orlesian accent.  "Why do you assume he's done something?”  Loghain snarled.

"When has he not.  He is a _bâtard_.  Even his father does not acknowledge him.”  As she spoke, she gave the Arl a disapproving glare. “  He is the bane of poor Arlessa Isolde's existence."

Loghain looked at Bryce.  "You knew," he growled.

Bryce let a smirk flash, then whispered, "No, but I suspected.  Isolde is the pious one, so I guessed she'd pick the Sister.”  He turned to the Sister. “  Sister Eleutheria, we apologize for this interruption.  You are obviously busy.  On reflection, there is no further need to disturb you.  Maker Watch Over You.”  He walked out into the Castle Courtyard with Loghain.  Eamon hurried to catch up to the Teyrns.

Loghain turned on Eamon, "How could you possibly think that woman, that Orlesian woman, would be an appropriate teacher for Alistair?" he hissed.

Eamon shrugged, "She's already tried to teach him, Loghain.  It's not her fault he's too stupid to learn."

"Eamon," Teryn Bryce interceded, "I don't believe that about the boy and I know Loghain doesn't.  Where do the other children go to school?"

"In the Chantry school in the village, of course.  But you can't think to send him there.  He'd disrupt the whole school."

Bryce sighed, "Eamon, your Stable Master, Arms Master and Guard Captain all think highly of the boy.  Loghain, my daughter, my wife and I think highly of the boy.  I understand Teagan offered to foster him.  Only you, Sister Eleutheria and the Arlessa find fault with him.  And that seems to be based on the fact that the two women believe he's your bastard and you let them do as they please to punish him for it.  I've yet to hear any substantive reports of faults or misdeeds."

"Right," Loghain muttered, "Eamon and two Orlesians.”  Eamon glared at him for a moment, then arranged his features to hide his disdain.

"He will attend school in the Chantry.  Eleanor and I will speak with the Revered Mother and teaching Sister or Brother and make the arrangements.  We will let the Guard Captain and Arms Master know the school schedule.  You will not interfere with his education any further, Eamon.  I hope I make myself quite clear here.  Do you have any questions?”  Bryce looked to Eamon to respond.

"No, Teyrn Cousland, none." 

"Good, I'm sure Teyrn Loghain will let King Maric know you understand.  Now if you'll excuse me, I think I return to my rooms for dinner.”  With that, a still angry Teyrn Cousland strode off to the Castle entrance.

Loghain smirked, "You know Eamon, I can count on the fingers of one hand how many times I've seen Bryce Cousland that angry.  Two of those times have been in the last day.  I think you might want to consider that.  Angering both Teyrns and the King, is perhaps not a wise thing to do.  And you're reputed to be so politically astute!”  Loghain glared at Eamon for a moment. “  Don't forget to have that conversation with the Arlessa, Eamon.  I suggest today."

Loghain followed Bryce into the Castle leaving a discomfited and angry Eamon standing alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. If you have time, please review. Book 1 may be complete, but I'm working on Book 2.
> 
> After completing Brief Shining Moments, I re-read and edited the entire work. From Chapter 14 on I had the support of my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion which resulted in far fewer errors. Any remaining are mine alone. There may be a few tweaks to wording, but no content changes.
> 
> I’ve received the support of many reviewers. Mike3207, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Caraine, clafoung, SnowHelm, katdancer2, dustywalker, Easternviolet, ElyssaCousland, Nymra, ChaoticHarmony1991, EveHawk, susyjohn, Judy, maradeux, DjinniGenie, Pollyanna24, Contess. Others have followed and favorited the story or posted kudos. Thanks to all of you.
> 
> I created some appendices with commissioned art, timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure.


	7. The Funalis Fest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:18 Dragon Funalis Day === Redcliff Village

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

"Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…"  
That was Ferelden

Ruled by King Maric the Savior

Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 7: THE FUNALIS FEST**

**9:18 Dragon  Funalis Day === Redcliff Village**

" _Funalis was once dedicated to the Old God of silence, Dumat.  Since Dumat's rise during the First Blight, however, this fact has been largely ignored.  Now the holiday is invariably known as All Soul's Day and is supposed to be spent in somber remembrance of the dead.  In some northern lands, it is traditional for the population to dress as spirits and walk the streets in parade after midnight._

"Ooohhh, wouldn't that be fun, Ali?  I wish we did that here."  Lys continued reading.  " _The Chantry has co-opted this holiday to remember the death of Andraste, with fires that mark her burning appearing throughout the community.  Plays depicting the tale of her death are also quite common.[2]  Of late, in Ferelden, King Maric dedicated a portion of the day to remembering the dead of the Orlesian Occupation and Fereldan Rebellion.  Many Fereldan's wear a sprig of Andraste's Grace to remember both Andraste and the Fereldan Fallen_.”

Lys looked up from the scroll.  "Do you have the Andraste's Grace we bought?  We'll need to put it on our cloaks before we go to the Chantry.”  They both wore cloaks of Cousland Blue.

Alistair pulled two sprigs from the vase where they had been kept overnight.  Since he was attending Lys, the Couslands had invited him to their rooms to stay with Fergus for the night.  He had dinner, took a bath, and received a whole new set of clothes.  Teyrna Eleanor had even given him a cloak with the Cousland laurel crest.  He smiled.  It was the best cloak he'd ever worn, light and warm and new.  He couldn't remember the last time he'd had anything new.  The entire household wore the same cloak too.  The only difference between the Cousland family cloak and the one their retainers wore was a thin band of gold embroidery detailing a narrow garland of laurel around the edge of the hood.  He smiled.  His cloak had the laurel garland, just like Lys and Fergus.  He could almost pretend he was part of their family.

"Here, Lys.”  He handed her the flowers.  “  But how do we attach them?"

"Ah, magic," she whispered.

Alistair stepped back looking startled, in spite of himself.  He was learning to recognize when Lys teased him.  He tried to not to react each time, but the Couslands had a mage in their household, so when Lys said magic it stirred his curiosity and unsettled him.  "Alright, My Lady Who Knows Everything, how?" he retorted, putting a mock scowl on his face.

Lys took his flower and found two small slits in the cloak fabric next to the Cousland laurel crest on his cloak.  "See, there are two slits here so that flowers or a token can be attached.  You just slip it through like this.”  She stepped back.  “  Done.  Now, can you do mine.  It's easier to do someone else's.”  Alistair fumbled a bit, but finally managed to secure Lys' flower without damaging it or the cloak.

"There, that looks fine, I think.”  He fidgeted nervously, "Should I walk with you or behind?  I don't want to get in trouble."

"With me, of course.  I'll be walking behind my parents, so you won't get in trouble.  Just stick by my side.  I'm actually pretty good at these occasions now.  It's easier just to go along and get them over with, I've decided.  You've gone to Funalis services before, haven't you?"

"No," he admitted.  "They always told me to stay here.  I guess I could have gone and stood outside, but then the town boys would just tease me and I'd get into a fight.  And then I'd get caught, dismembered and thrown into the lake."

Lys sighed.  "Well, you're with me today.  There'll be no dismemberments, ritual or otherwise.  At the first sign of trouble from any town boys, I will call for help.  That way neither of us will get in trouble.  Sometimes it's better to retreat and fight another day, Loghain says.  And since he's a great hero, I guess that's true.  We'll see how the town boys like fighting Fergus, my father and Loghain," she grinned.  "After all my parents, Loghain and King Maric are all heroes of the Rebellion."

Alistair looked at her quizzically.  "Isn't Eamon a hero?"

"Eamon?  No, he was too young to fight.  He and Teagan were sent to the Free Marches during the Rebellion.”  She frowned, "Maybe it embarrasses him, so he doesn't mention it.  He came back at the very end, I think, but, his father, Arl Rendorn Guerrin and his sister Rowan, King Maric's Queen and Cailan's mother, were the Guerrin heroes, not the boys.  Rowan was a true war maiden.  She saved Loghain's life once, after _he_ saved King Maric's.  Don't you know the story of the Rebellion?" she asked, surprised.

"Not really.  No one tells me stories and, well, I can't read yet, you know.  The story Loghain told yesterday of King Maric fighting the usurper Meghren on the roof of Fort Drakon was the first real story I've heard.”  Alistair was looking down, scuffing his foot on the carpet that covered the wooden floor.  She knew he did that when he felt embarrassed or awkward.  Lys felt her stomach twist as she silently berated herself.  He was so smart, but there was so much she took for granted, that he didn't know.  He would often distract her with a joke or just ask questions, until he caught on, if she chattered on about something unfamiliar.  But sometimes, like now, the lack of knowledge was so obvious and he was so embarrassed, that she felt guilty for mentioning it.

"Alistair, I'm sorry.  It's not your fault.  You're Arl Eamon's ward.  It's his job to make sure you are educated.  It's his fault.  I can't believe Arl Eamon or Bann Teagan didn't tell you the story," she grumbled.  "I'll bring you some books when we come next year.  You'll be able to read by then.  You can start you own library."

"Really?" he looked at her disbelievingly.  Books were expensive.  How he could actually own one, much less read it was beyond his imaginings.  But Lys seemed so sure that it was possible and she was so often right.  Maybe school and training and reprieve from Isolde would happen even after they all left.

"Really," Lys assured him.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

In the courtyard, the King, Loghain, and Prince Cailan; the Arl and Arlessa, the Couslands; the other noble guests and a few senior household retainers entered their respective carriages for the ride into the village.  The bulk of the household followed on foot.  The villagers were already turned out along the route in their holiday best.  The day would be dedicated to somber remembrance.  The actual festivities would start at nightfall, after the services, with celebrations around the bonfire and the staging of Andraste plays.

The carriages halted by the Chantry door and were met by the Mayor, the Revered Mother and the Chantry sisters.  The King, Crown Prince and Teyrns were greeted first, along with the rest of the Cousland family.  Today, much to his shock, this included Alistair.  He hadn't quite understood what it meant to attend Lys as her companion.  He thought he'd be in the back with the servants, instead he walked found himself walking down the aisle at Lys’ side.  He kept expecting someone to stop him as he walked behind the King and ahead of the Arl and Arlessa.  Maker, Isolde must be furious, he thought.  Then it occurred to him, he was clean, well dressed and he wore a Cousland cloak; perhaps the Arlessa didn't even recognize him.

Loghain looked over his shoulder to watch the boy as he tentatively followed Lys into the Chantry.  He notice the change in his expression go from apprehension to satisfaction.  Loghain smiled, the boy was sharp.  He slowed to walk beside the boy once inside. "The Orlesian probably won't notice you, Alistair.  She doesn't expect to see you cleaned up and quite handsome in Cousland livery.  It's called hiding in plain sight.  Eventually, she will notice, but by then you'll be accepted and there will be nothing she can do."

He was rewarded with a huge grin as they continued to their seats in the row behind the King and Cailan.

The Arl and Arlessa followed and sat in the row across the aisle in line with the Teyrns.  Lys made sure she and Alistair sat between her parents and Fergus and Teyrn Loghain, well out of the Arlessa's line of sight.

"This is a long service," she warned.  "We'll need to keep very quiet.”  She smiled at him and grabbed his hand as they settled in their seats to commemorate Andraste and remember Ferelden's dead.  The service began with readings from the Chant and a play depicting Andraste's death.  After a brief break, when they all filed out to watch the lighting of the great bonfire in front of the Chantry, the ceremony turned to remembrances of the dead from the Occupation and the recent Rebellion.  King Maric had secured Ferelden's freedom only fifteen years earlier in single combat with the Orlesian usurper Meghren on the top of Fort Drakon in Denerim.  That was the story Loghain told Lys and Alistair by the Lake the day before.  After almost a century of Occupation, during which many Fereldan's died horrible deaths at Orlesian hands, Ferelden became free.  While the relationship with Orlais remained fraught as peace negotiations dragged on, Ferelden remained free of Orlesian forces under King Maric's rule.

Of course, with the King, Loghain and her parents in attendance, the Revered Mother, made reference to the heroes in their midst, much to the heroes' dismay.  Loghain left it to King Maric and Bryce to acknowledge the acclaim of the gathered populace while he stood briefly, bowed and sat down grumbling, much to Lys and Alistair's amusement.  After a dirty look from the Hero of River Dane, Lys attempted to master her grin with minimal success.  Finally, Loghain smirked back making her giggle, her hand held up before her face, hiding her quiet mirth.  Aside from pink cheeks, Alistair managed to maintain his serious demeanor after his first smirk.

At last, late in the day, the services came to an end.  The Chantry emptied in the order the celebrants had entered.  The King and Cailan left first, then the Teyrns, followed by the rest of the Cousland family.  As they walked out King Maric dropped back to speak with Loghain.  Once they reached the porch, he turned to the two children.

"My Lady Melysande," the King grinned.  "I haven't had a hug yet.  Has Loghain?"

Lys grinned, "Yes, two actually, Your Majesty, but his rooms are near ours.  I haven't seen you up close until today.  I thought the services somewhat solemn for hugs."

"Oh no," King Maric looked downcast, "you're becoming a lady."

Lys giggled.  "Well, no, just growing up.  I can hug you now, but …" before she could finish the King had swept her up in a bear hug.  "Now, was that better than Loghain's?"

Lys paused and pretended to ponder, "I can't say.  I think I will need more hugs from each of you to decide.  It's still a tie."

"See," Loghain groused with a grin.  "She's her father's daughter.  Diplomatic to a fault.”  Bryce rewarded him with a feigned scowl.

King Maric turned to Lys again, "Are you going to introduce me to your friend?"

Loghain frowned.

"Oh," Lys cried, "I am so sorry, Your Majesty, this is Alistair.  He is Arl Eamon's ward.”  The King crouched down to be on the same level as the boy.

"Hello, Alistair."

"Greetings, Your Majesty.”  Alistair managed to mumble as he bowed.  The he straightened his shoulders.  He was Lys friend and couldn't embarrass her.  He looked into his father's eyes for the first time.

"I understand you have been a good friend to Lys.”  The King said, smiling a smile that looked very like Alistair's own.

"I try, Your Majesty.”  He smiled his shyest grin, "but it's more like Lys has been good a friend to me."

"Friends are the most valuable thing you will have in life, Alistair.  Always remember that.  Everything I have is thanks to the support of my friends.”  The King reached out as if to touch Alistair's cheek, but checked himself and only straightened his cloak ties. “  Lys is very special, as are you.  You're lucky to have each other as friends.  Keep her close.”  The King extended his hand for Alistair to shake. “  It's been a pleasure to meet you Alistair."

Alistair took his father's hand and shook it firmly, looking him in the eye.  The King released the boy's hand and stood.

"Enjoy the Festival tonight, Alistair.”  He smiled, "And don't let Lys, eat too many honey cakes.”  He walked towards his carriage with Cailan, who graced his half-brother with a smile, unsure of who the boy with the Cousland family cloak could be.

Loghain observed the boy as he spoke with Maric.  Alistair continued to watch his father with a solemn look on his face.  Loghain suddenly remembered watching his own father fall, while he hurried Prince Maric away from the battle between the outlaw band Gareth Mac Tir led and the Usurper's men, traitorous Fereldans from Ceorlic’s lands.  But he'd known his father for seventeen years.  He couldn't imagine meeting and losing a father in a brief moment.  The boy showed neither anger nor pain, both of which he probably felt.  Alistair had a quiet strength many men lacked.  With education and guidance, he would become a formidable man.  Loghain wondered if that potential boded well or ill for the boy.

Surrounded as he was by the Couslands and Loghain, Alistair's meeting with King Maric went unnoticed by anyone else.  The Arl and Arlessa were too busy taking leave of the Revered Mother, Mayor and village dignitaries to notice anything unusual about the King chatting with the Teyrns or Cailan with Fergus.  Once the King was settled in his carriage, the others boarded theirs.  Loghain joined Lys and Alistair, in the Cousland carriage, for the ride back to the castle.

"Teyrn Loghain, could you tell Alistair the story of the Rebellion while we're here?  No one has ever told him.  And since he can't read yet.  I can't give him a book.”  Lys made the request matter of factly.

"You don't know anything about it?" he asked Alistair.

"Well, I know the Orlesian Chevaliers – they're Knights on horses – conquered Ferelden a long time ago and were very cruel rulers.  I know that King Maric and you and Eamon's sister, Queen Rowan, and their father and Teyrn and Teyrna Cousland fought against the Orlesians for a very long time.  I know the story you told us yesterday of King Maric's duel with the Usurper and I know we won and the Orlesians left.  Well most of them," he added slyly as Loghain chuckled.  Alistair shrugged, "that's pretty much all I know.”  He squirmed, embarrassed to disappoint Loghain and Lys.

"Alistair, it's not your fault no one taught you.”  Loghain assured him. “  And you will be able to tell folks that you heard the real story straight from me, which, of course, means it's entirely true."

"Which of course means it's not," Lys countered.  "King Maric will argue with him for many turns of the glass over what happened in certain battles.”  She turned to Loghain, "It would be nice, but….  I suppose he will be too busy."

Loghain agreed, "This is not as relaxed as Highever during Summerday, Lys.  The King will have many nobles to wine, dine and entertain, as, I imagine, will your father.  The Landsmeet is in a few weeks.”  He grinned in relief, "better them than me.  Let's see, Alistair, you haven't moved to a room in the Armory yet have your?"

"Not yet, Teyrn Loghain."

"Good, why don't you move in with me.  I have an extra room.  You'll be close to Lys and can join the Couslands for the daytime activities. I'll tell you and Lys the story each night, if I can avoid the Arlessa's dinners."

"That's brilliant, Teyrn Loghain, "Say you will Ali," enthused Lys.  “It will be so much better than staying with Fergus.”

"Stay with you?  That would be an honor Teyrn Loghain," the boy replied, surprised. "I will serve you, of course. Run messages, get food,… "

"Alistair, I invited you to stay with me as my guest and friend, not as my servant," Loghain interjected. "I may ask you to do an old man a favor, but as a friend, not as a servant."

"I see, I guess," Alistair looked a little bewildered.

"You don't snore do you?" Loghain asked.

"I do…don…don't think so," Alistair stammered. Lys chuckled. "Too bad, 'cause _he_ does. You may need to cover your ears. Papa almost put him out of the hunting lodge last spring."

"I was joking, son." Loghain assured him. "I'll give you a pack when we get back. Just get your things from the stable and bring them to the rooms across from Lys'. We'll check your clothes and see if you need anything for school. Eleanor, I may need your advice if you will? If you need anything, we'll have time to buy clothes in the village tomorrow."

"Shop? For clothes? For me?"

"I can come can't I," demanded Lys.

"Of course, we'll need your expert advice, My Lady of the Cloth, as well as your mum's," Loghain assured her. "The Tourney competitions won't begin until the next day, so unless you have a desire to sit through more ceremony, visiting the Fair will be the best way to pass the time. And as I recall, my lady, you enjoy honey cakes?"

Lys grinned, "Lots and lots of honey cakes. We need to try every booth so we can pick the best."

Alistair started to get caught up in the spirit. "I like dipped apples," he offered.

"Ooohh, yes," Lys agreed. "We had them last year. So good." She grinned at Alistair, "We got pretty sticky last year. Remember we went to the lake to wash off." She giggled, "and _you_ fell in."

Alistair scowled, "Only because someone slipped and bumped me in. I was just wet. You were the one covered in mud!"

Loghain watched the two of them, chuckling, and found himself wondering how this friendship would develop. If Alistair was ever acknowledged, it could be a good match.  If not, however, it could end in heartbreak.  Lys was so intense and passionate.  Who knows, he thought to himself, in two or three years, when they mature, they may hate each other.  He shook his head, why was he so introspective lately.  The carriage rolled up to the Castle entry and the two tumbled out still laughing and arguing. He does hold his own with her, Loghain thought, amused.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The King, the Couslands and Teyrn Loghain attended the Arlessa's evening banquet as part of the Funalis ceremonies.  At fourteen Fergus could begin to attend the adult affairs, but he begged off by offering to accompany Cailan to the village bonfire along with Nathaniel Howe.  Not to be left out, Lys begged her brother to let her and Alistair come too.  They compromised by agreeing Lys and Alistair could tag along for a while, until Freya met with them to take the children back to the Castle.

They approached the narrow plateau above the Chantry and could see the bonfire, lit since late afternoon, flaring high into the sky in front of the Chantry porch.  Its light illuminated the players about to begin the Andraste play.  The villagers spread out on either side of the bonfire and overflowed onto the path to the plateau and the rocks above the square.  In the dusk, no one noticed the Crown Prince, so the young nobles and Alistair were free to choose their own spot without ceremony.

Fergus got the five settled to the side of the porch where everyone had a clear view.  Nate offered to buy honey cakes, apples and cider.

"Make sure its sweet cider, Nate," Fergus cautioned handing the coin to the twelve year old.  Nate nodded and soon returned with a full sack of food and several skins of cider.  Cailan, gallantly, spread his cloak out for Lys to sit upon and made sure she had first choice of honey cakes to Alistair's dismay and confusion.  Before he could sidle away, Lys turned and pulled him onto Cailan's cloak, making sure he had a cake as well.

"Cailan, you don't mind if Alistair sits here too, do you?"

Cailan frowned, still not sure who the boy was, although Fergus had introduced him to Cailan and Nate as Eamon's ward and Lys' friend.  "No, your friend is welcome."

Fergus and Nate chuckled.

"You better be careful, Your Highness.  We might have to tell Anora you're flirting with my little sister," Fergus warned, scoring him a withering look from the young prince.

Lys turned to Fergus in annoyance, "Fergus and Nate, stop.  Anora is my friend and I am not flirting with His Highness," she hissed quietly.  "Cailan is much too old for me.”  This set Fergus and Nate off on another round of guffaws.

"Just ignore them Cailan.  Anora knows you wouldn't flirt with me.  You and Alistair are just gentleman, unlike my brother and Nate."

At this point, Cailan's blush deepened to a rosy red, much to Alistair's guarded amusement.  He wondered if his father blushed too.  The start of the play soon quieted the young group.

This night's Andraste Play told the story of Maferath's betrayal of his wife Andraste from his point of view.  Although based, it seemed, on the apocryphal Canticle of Maferath, a Dissonant Verse, no one objected.  It fulfilled its purpose by commemorating Andraste's death and entertaining the crowd.  After a full day of Chantry solemnity, the villagers welcomed the Andraste Play's melodrama and bawdy humor.  Only Fergus fully appreciated some of the coarser humor, but all five laughed at the clowning intervals, which lightened the serious tale of betrayal and death.

As the play ended, Freya and Nyla joined the group signaling to Lys and Alistair that the time had come to return to the Castle and bed.  Tired and full of cider, honey cake and apples, the two children quietly followed the Nurse and Mage up the hill to the Castle.

* * *

[2] Dragon Age wiki/Calendar

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. If you have time, please review. Book 1 may be complete, but I'm working on Book 2.
> 
> After completing Brief Shining Moments, I re-read and edited the entire work. From Chapter 14 on I had the support of my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion which resulted in far fewer errors. Any remaining are mine alone. There may be a few tweaks to wording, but no content changes.
> 
> I’ve received the support of many reviewers. Mike3207, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Caraine, clafoung, SnowHelm, katdancer2, dustywalker, Easternviolet, ElyssaCousland, Nymra, ChaoticHarmony1991, EveHawk, susyjohn, Judy, maradeux, DjinniGenie, Pollyanna24, Contess. Others have followed and favorited the story or posted kudos. Thanks to all of you.
> 
> I created some appendices with commissioned art, timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure.


	8. The Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:18 Dragon 1 August === Redcliffe Village

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

"Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…"  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 8: THE FAIR**

* * *

**9:18 Dragon  1 August  ===  Redcliffe  Village**

Lys and Alistair raced ahead of Loghain down the long path from the Castle.  It was a lovely autumn day, so Loghain decided to walk to the village with the children.  Most of the men and older boys were either practicing and readying their weapons for the Tourney or watching those who were.  The formal opening ceremonies, the Invocation, would take place on the Tourney Field after mid-day bells.  Loghain smiled to himself.  One of the benefits of age, he decided, was that he did not have to participate in either the Tourney or the ceremonies.  There were times when Cailan needed to be at his father's side, without Loghain's shadow behind them.

He had been surprised at how much he enjoyed the boy, Alistair's, company.  In some ways, the boy reminded him of himself.  He had been barely schooled, experiencing hardship and treachery at a young age.  He had survived through sheer stubborn bullheadedness.  Unlike the boy, however, he had known his parents, who had loved and nurtured him as best they could in the harsh reality of the Orlesian occupation.  Alistair, on the other hand, had known nothing but neglect and abuse.  His self-deprecating humor deflected many insults.  Unfortunately, he had learned to forego even humor and acquiesce quickly to the Arlessa's tirades to minimize the inevitable punishments.  His stoic, cheerful, compassionate nature came as a surprise, masking an underlying strength and intelligence, but he needed purpose.  Rather than express his own wishes, he focused on what he believed others wanted him to be.  His only goal, to please them and avoid punishment.  Loghain wanted him to focus on who he wanted to be.  He hoped the support of new friends would increase his self-confidence and encourage him to make friends and put himself forward as he trained and attended school.

Both children became more excited as they passed the windmill, walked across the bridge and came out on the narrow plateau above the village square and Chantry.  The merchants' stalls and tents pitched in front of the Chantry offered all types of merchandise.  This was the main Fair of the year in Redcliffe.  The Funalis Ceremony and the Tourney brought families into town from the outlying farmholds, as well as knights eager to participate in the Tourney events.  Farmers brought their harvest bounty to sell before winter set in.  Merchants from all around Ferelden crowded into the square to sell to the throng.

Lys and Alistair looked down on colorful tents and stalls.  Minstrels filled the air with music, while jongleurs and acrobats performed in the open areas.  Lys noticed a puppet show in progress.  Players offered their plays from the Chantry porch.  Merchants hawked their wares aloud, adding to the somehow pleasing cacophony that was a Fair.

Local merchants opened their shops, but also presented goods outside to draw patrons in.  Smells of baked goods, ale, mead, roasting meat, grilling fish, baking bread and a variety of sweets wafted through the air enticing tired, hungry Fair goers to the food stalls.  A person could easily spend the entire day, viewing merchandise, watching people, enjoying entertainers and sampling a variety of food and drink.

"Ooh," Lys cried, "this is almost as large as Highever's Summerday Fair.  Do you think the ribbon merchant will be here?  And there was a silversmith with lovely chains, maybe he'll be here.  Mum gave me a few sovereigns."

Loghain noted the wide-eyed look Alistair gave Lys at her casual remark.  “A few….”  Alistair shook his head.

The three Fair goers walked down the final incline into the village.  Loghain leaned down to Alistair, "Did you want to buy something?" he asked.

"I would, but I have no coin," Alistair answered sadly.  "Lys and her family have been so good to me, I'd like to buy her something."

"Check again," Loghain urged, "I think you might find you do.  Isn't there is a coin pouch on your belt?"

Loghain had provided Alistair with a belt that morning.  He checked, finding a coin pouch filled with three sovereigns and some smaller coin.  "Where...did you put these in the pouch, Your Grace?  I can't take coin from you.”  He whispered as Lys rushed ahead.

"And why not?”  Loghain challenged.

"Well…  I didn't earn it."

"Alistair, consider it a Name Day gift.  Your Name Day is just past, right."

"You know when my Name Day is?"

"I do," Loghain confirmed, "28 Solace.  You were, I think, eight."

"Yeesss…that's right," Alistair continued to look surprised.  "I guess I could do that.  Thank you, Teyrn Loghain."

"You are very welcome, Alistair.  Spend it wisely."

Alistair grinned.  "Will it be enough to buy Lys a chain from the silversmith do you think?  Would that be alright?"

Loghain ruffled the boy's hair, "I think that would be a fine gift, Alistair.  I'll distract her so you can make the purchase.  Just remember to bargain.  Listen to me when I make purchases and then negotiate the same way," he added, as Alistair looked worried.

Lys slowed as they approached a clothing stall.  She turned to Loghain, "Did you want to purchase some things for Ali?"

"I do," Loghain confirmed.  "Some everyday leggings and tunics in linen and wool; one good every day over tunic and one finer one for special days; good boots for winter, small clothes, stockings, a good dagger and sheath and some rougher training clothes, although some of your old things will serve for that as well," he said turning to Alistair.  "Do you need anything else?"

"Mum said Alistair could keep the cloak and clothes she gave him.  She thought the crest should be removed in case it annoyed Arl Eamon, but the laurel border will stay.  Perhaps he needs an everyday cloak?"

"Right," said Loghain, "an everyday cloak as well.  Alistair?"

"Whatever you and Lys think, Teyrn Loghain.  I've never had new clothes.  Will I need all that?" .

"Well, you need to look presentable when you go to class, you need different clothes for working in the Armory and for training and, once you're in class, the Sister will expect you at services, so you'll need a good outfit for those special days," Loghain explained.  "Your life is going to change this year, but I think for the better."

"I see," Alistair responded thoughtfully, beginning to understand just how much a difference Lys, her family and Loghain would make for him.

The stall keeper, over awed by his famous customer, was even more surprised when he realized the recipient was the Arl's ward.  He was a local merchant, who had set up outside his shop so he was familiar with Alistair.  Once he'd been a familiar site in the village playing with his friends among the village children his age.  As the children went off to school, apprenticeships and training, while he remained a stable boy, the friendships dissolved.  Most believed the story that he was somewhat slow, since he did not attend school, and felt pity or disdain for the boy.  Afterall, if Alistair was not stupid and slow, he would be schooled and trained like the rest of his peers.  The rumors that he had displeased the Arlessa only added to the villagers’ avoidance of the boy.

Now the Hero of River Dane and Teyrn Cousland's daughter were buying him clothes, treating him like an equal and talking of school and training.  Even more surprising was his cloak with the Cousland crest.  What had changed?  Every one already knew he was an unacknowledged bastard.  He was said to be the child of a Redcliffe serving maid, who died at his birth, and some unknown father.  The rumor mill began to grind.  He was Eamon's bastard son.  He was Loghain's bastard son.  He was Teyrn Cousland's bastard son.  He was Teagan's bastard son.  He was the bastard son of some other noble.  Eamon was just fostering him as a favor to someone.  Fortunately, no one thought of the King.

Loghain negotiated with the merchant while Alistair paid close attention.  Once he completed the transactions, Loghain arranged for the packages to be delivered to him at the castle.  "Now let's find some good boots.  We'll need to find the cobbler's shop, I think, and see if he can complete them by tomorrow."

They headed off on their new mission, finding the shop easily.  With most townsfolk outside at the Fair, the cobbler's shop was empty.  He measured Alistair's feet and confirmed he could have a pair of sturdy boots, ready by the evening of the next day.  Again, Loghain arranged to have them delivered.

"Now can we find honey cakes?”  Lys pleaded.

Alistair reminded her that she wanted to find ribbons and the silversmith and look at the other stalls.  "If you have honey cakes, no merchant will want you near his goods with your sticky fingers," he said with a straight face.  Loghain chuckled; the boy was correct, of course.  He wondered if he knew the pun he'd made.  Lys regarded him with a scowl.

"And just why do you think I have sticky fingers," she snapped, showing she understood the inference.

Alistair laughed, "Only the honey cake kind, My Lady with the Sweet Tooth, I'm sure. Or do I have to worry about my coin purse?"

Lys pouted, "Perhaps, if you had any coin in it," she said unkindly.

Alistair's scowl precluded any further sharp remarks. Lys looked chastened. "Sorry, Ali." She looked up as a grin threatened to spread across her face, "I get nasty when I'm peckish," she explained.

"What, so honey cakes will make you happier?  Well, I guess I better buy you one with my few coins, " Alistair huffed, walking off to a vendor on the far side of the Fair.

"Ali, no, I didn't mean you should buy them," she called after him .  "Oh, Teyrn Loghain, why do I do that. I just don't think."

Loghain put his hand on her shoulder.  "Well, you can't take it back now.  Don't hurt him further by rejecting the cakes.  Accept one and say thank you.  Just don't eat too many and get sick," he teased.

Lys looked up at her friend, the Teyrn, with a frown.  "I don't want him to be angry with me."

"He'll be fine, Lys.  You just need to remember, he has his pride and you punctured it with that rather thoughtless remark.  Your joke about being hungry gave him a way to salvage his pride by getting you the cakes.  Just accept them."

Alistair returned with three cakes, which he distributed among the three of them.  "Meg makes the best honey cakes," he informed them.

"Thank you Alistair," Lys said then took a bite.  "Oh, Ali, these are wonderful.  The best I've ever had.  I need to buy some to take back to Mum.”  Alistair's frown morphed to a smile at the compliment.

"I think I'll take some back too," Loghain added.  "They'll make a nice snack tonight, don't you think?”  Alistair eagerly shook his head in assent.

The three trudged across the market to Meg's stand, purchasing three more honey cakes for themselves as well a dozen each for Loghain and Lys to take back with them.  After wrapping them, Meg even provided a damp cloth to clean any sticky fingers.  Alistair smirked as he requested it, then handed the damp cloth to Lys, calling her My Lady of the Sticky Fingers, ducking away as she giggled and punched at him.

The three continued to wander through the Fair.  Lys stopped at a stall selling ribbons.  She handed her package of honey cakes to Alistair asking him to hold them, with the package he already had for Loghain, while she searched through the various colors and widths.  Bored, Alistair drifted off to listen to a minstrel telling an old tale, while Loghain turned to look at the wares of a vendor selling old books, scrolls and maps.  Alistair became so engrossed in the minstrels' tale he failed to notice several older boys surrounding him.  Walking with Lys and Loghain, he'd felt safe.  Suddenly he realized he was cut off from his friends.

"Well, lookee here, it's the bastard stable boy.  Too busy with your fancy new friends to speak to us Ali Boy?" the leader snarled.  The boys were all three or four years older than Alistair.  He knew he couldn't avoid the beating they threatened.

"I'm just attending the girl," he muttered.  "I was told to carry her things and such."

"Ooohh, attending a lady.  I suppose that's a step up from attending a mare, in't it Jared?”  A second boy sniggered. “  Just what does "and such" include?"

Alistair knew the remarks were meant to be dirty, but wasn't sure exactly what they meant.  "Look, I do what the girl and Teryn MacTir tell me to do," he retorted.  "I'm nothing special to them.  Just a boy."

"Right Ali Boy.  You are nothing special, just a stupid bastard stable boy.”  Jared agreed. “  We should make sure you remember that, bastard.  He grabbed Alistair's packages.  Look Sammy, honey cakes for his lady."

"Wait," Alistair exclaimed, "they're not mine, they belong to Lys and the Teyrn.'

"Lys is it?  Calling a noble wench by her given name?  In't that sweet?”  Sammy chortled.

"Well, guess you'll have to explain how you lost them now won't you?  What's he get for stealing, Sammy?  A whipping at the least?"

"Oh worse I would thing.  Maybe chop his hands off, right?"

At that, Alistair barreled into Jared, ducking his head to hit him hard in the stomach.  With the wind knocked out of him by Alistair's charge, Jared dropped the packages and grabbed his midsection.  Quickly, Alistair scooped up the packages and ran.  The only open path took him away from Lys and Loghain.  'Retreat to fight another day.' he thought.  I'll circle around and find them.  Unfortunately, the older boys were quicker and soon caught up to him pushing him into a nearby silversmith's stall.  He groaned as the display tipped, but fortunately, for the merchant, fell back into the interior of the stall.

"He stole our packages," the boys complained as townsfolk gathered 'round the stall.  "We got cakes for our Mums and he stole them.”  The silversmith yelled at the boys to stand back as he gathered his wares. “  I saw that boy grab those packages and run," he confirmed.  "He's the thief.  These other boys were chasing him to get their packages back."

"That's not true," Alistair protested.  "They took these packages from me.  I'm carrying them for Teyrn Loghain and Lady Melysande.  I didn't steal anything.  Ask Meg.  The Teyrn bought them from her."

A town guard walked up.  What's this disturbance?  He turned to Alistair, "What did you do, boy?"

"Nothing," Alistair replied dejectedly.  "They took my packages.  I just tried to get them back."

"Your packages," the silversmith challenged.  "You just said they belonged to a Teyrn and a Lady."

"They do," Alistair confirmed.  "I'm carrying them for the Teyrn and Lady Lys."

The guard confronted him, "So which is it boy, are the packages yours, some Teyrn's and Lady's or these boys'?"

"Teyrn Mac Tir's and Lady Melysande's," Alistair replied.

"Right, the Arl's bastard stable boy is carrying packages for the Teyrn and the Lady.  Boy, come with me.”  He took the packages and handed them to Jared, who had recovered from Alistair's attack. “  You can sit in the guardhouse until the Arlessa sends someone for you.  I'm surprised the folks at the Castle let you out to come here, a stupid troublemaker like you."

The Guard eyed Alistair with suspicion, "Or did you run away for the day?  That won't make the Arlessa happy.  A thief and a liar, perhaps the Arlessa will just leave you with us for punishment.  An idiot could come up with a better story than yours.  Why would Teyrn MacTir use you as a servant when he's got his own."

The Guard grabbed Alistair roughly by the arm and dragged him away.  The other boys quickly took off with their loot.

Lys finally selected several ribbons and paid for her purchases.  She walked over to Loghain, who was admiring a map of Nevarra.

"Oh, that's … nice," Lys admired, catching herself just in time.  She shouldn't be too complimentary in case Loghain wanted to buy it.  Her praise might hurt his negotiations.  She knew he liked to drive a hard bargain.  It was a beautiful map, nicely colored with native animals drawn in.  A lion featured prominently in the lands north of Nevarra City.

Loghain looked up at the bookseller.  "How much?"

"Eighteen sovereigns," the woman replied.

"Eleven," Loghain responded.

"I'd be beggared if I sold my goods so low,"

"I'd be beggared if I paid so much," Loghain responded.

"Seventeen," she countered.

"Twelve."

"Fifteen fifty."

"Twelve fifty, final offer," Loghain started to put away his purse.

"Fine, Twelve fifty."

Loghain smiled and handed her the coin.  She rolled the map, wrapped it and handed him the bundle.  "Where's Alistair?" he asked.

"He went to listen to the minstrel," Lys responded.  "Hear him, he's in the next row of stalls."

The two went in search of the boy, but he was nowhere to be found.  Loghain turned to a nearby merchant and asked if they'd seen a young boy of eight and described Alistair.  The merchant snorted.  "Oh, the little cutpurse?  Did he take something from you as well?"

"Cutpurse!  What do you mean.  He's my friend and he's not a thief.”  Lys exclaimed. “  Where is he?"

The merchant stepped back and looked at the noble man and young girl.  "You… you're Teyrn Mac Tir."

"I've been called that," Loghain responded dryly.  "Now do you know where the boy is?"

"He..  They took him to the guardhouse, the guard did.  Said he stole packages from some boys.  Truth be told the boys are troublemakers too.  But the silversmith over there, he saw the boy take the packages.  Then the boy ran, fell into his stall and scattered his wares.  Ask him."

Lys looked at Loghain, an anxious frown on her face, "He was carrying our honey cakes," she reminded him.

"He was," Loghain agreed.  "Let's go to the guardhouse and straighten this out.”  He turned to the merchant, "Which way to the guardhouse?"

"Right over there, near the blacksmith's by the little bridge."

Alistair didn't even look up when they walked in.  He sat slumped over against the wall of a cell.  "Ali," Lys cried, slipping out of the guards reach and running over to the cell.  "Who were they?  Who took our packages from you?"

He looked up at her in disbelief, "You came for me?"

"Well, of course we came for you.  Teyrn Loghain will make the guard set you free right now.  Who were they?  You need to tell the guard so they can be punished."

"Just boys.  They always pick on me.  This time was worse because I had the packages.  I've never had anything they could take before.  And…I…well I didn't want to lose them.  They were yours and Teyrn Loghain's so I got them back.  But they caught up with me, pushed me into a stall, and the guard brought me here for stealing.  No one saw them take the packages from me.  Everyone saw me take them back.  So they all thought I took them.  The boys said they'd bought them for their Mums.  Everyone believed them.  I'm just the stupid stable boy.  Of course they thought I was the thief."

"They know better now," Loghain announced from behind Lys.  "Get that cell door open, Guard."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Lys walked into the cell and reached out for Alistair's hand.  "Come on, we'll buy some more honey cakes, get a dipped apple and go back to the Castle.  Just stay with us.  Everyone will see you are with us and know you aren't a thief.”  She pulled him up then threw her arms around him in a hug.  He looked up at Loghain as he hugged her back.

"Um…Your Grace.”  Loghain turned to Alistair, eyebrow raised.

"The Guard, he took my cloak and my coin pouch.  Said I'd stolen them too.  The cloak belongs to Teyrna Eleanor."

Loghain strode over to the Guard.  "Where are his belongings?  Were you planning on keeping them?  Just who is a thief here?"

The Guard cowered at the verbal barrage from the Hero of River Dane.  "Right here, Your Grace, I was just getting them.  I wouldn't keep them.”  He handed the pouch and cloak to Alistair.

"Now, I suggest you go out and arrest the actual thieves.  And when the Arl's guard comes to get Alistair, I expect you to make it clear you made a terrible mistake.  Tell the Arl's Guard, if there are any questions, they can come to me.  I'll speak to the Arl's Guard Captain when I return to the Castle."

Loghain turned to the children.  "Let's go, Alistair.  I think we've had our share of excitement for the day.”  Loghain chuckled, "I'm only surprised it's you and not her Ladyship here causing it.  Usually she's the cause of any commotion."

Lys flushed.  "Well, if I had my blades and we saw those boys, there'd be a big commotion."

"Thank the Maker you don't have your blades then.”  Loghain replied.

"What, you'd run from a fight?"

Alistair piped up shyly, "You said that Loghain said running away to fight another day is sometimes a good tactic."

"I have said that Alistair," Loghain confirmed.

"It's what I was trying to do, but I messed up," the boy replied sadly.

"Retreating against overwhelming odds and failing is nothing to be ashamed of Alistair.”  Loghain consoled as they walked back to the honey cake vendor. “  You were brave to even attempt it."

"Me, brave?”  He looked up at Loghain skeptically. “  I was just scared and angry."

Loghain smiled, "All soldiers are scared an angry, Alistair.  If they weren't, they wouldn't fight."

"Oh, why?"

"Well, scared if they're sensible, because they are risking wounds or death.  Angry because the enemy did them some wrong and because their friends lie, wounded and dying around them.  The trick is to use the fear and anger to fuel your skills, act wisely and win.  Acting wisely tends to be the difficult part.  It's hard not to let your anger rule your mind.  When you do you rush in and confront every battle head on."

Alistair pondered the response for a while, "I think I see.  Maybe I'll understand better when you tell me more about the Rebellion."

The three headed back to Meg's stall, where they replenished the honey cakes, then moved on to the dipped apples.  Even Loghain had one.

"Lys, didn't you want to look at silver chains?”  Alistair reminded her.

"Well, I did, but that's the man who accused you of stealing.  Do you want to go back there?"

"Sure, why not?  Just to show him I'm not a thief and he was wrong."

"Well, if Teyrn Loghain thinks it's alright…"

"I, think it's fine Lys.  Alistair has a point.  Let's let the man know Alistair a fine boy.”  He winked at Alistair.

"Well, I'll look at his goods, but I won't buy.  He was mean."

The three walked up to the Silversmith's stall.  The goods had been picked up and replaced in the display with nothing lost.  The merchant recognized the Teyrn and greeted him as Your Grace, nodding to the two children.  If he recognized Alistair as the boy he'd called a thief, he did not acknowledge it.  Lys searched through the fine silver chains, noting to Loghain and Alistair 2 that she particularly liked.  Loghain steered her to the end of the stall asking her advice about a pendant for Anora.  Alistair quickly pointed to one of the chains Lys preferred and asked the price.  The merchant looked at him warily.

"I have coin, sir," Alistair assured him.  "How much is it, please?

The merchant eyed him and replied, "Two sovereigns."

Alistair frowned.  "One sovereign, twenty.'

The merchant was surprised by the return offer, expecting the price to scare the boy off.  "One sovereign, seventy five," he responded.  'The chain would normally sell for one sovereign fifty,' he thought.

"One sovereign, forty and no more."

The merchant looked over at the Teyrn.  He didn't want to annoy Loghain.  "Sold," he said, "you drive a hard bargain boy."

"Please wrap it and I'll take it now," Alistair replied.  Then he noticed a pendant that looked like a laurel branch.  How much is that pendant, sir?

"If you take it with the chain, I'll give you both for one sovereign eighty.”  The merchant bargained.

"One seventy and we are agreed," grinned Alistair.  The merchant acquiesced.  Alistair handed over his two sovereigns and received his change.  "Please put it on the chain.”  The merchant slipped the pendant on the chain, wrapped it and handed it to Alistair.  Now he had a gift for Lys.  He frowned.  Should he have gotten something for her mother too.

Loghain and Lys walked back to where Alistair stood.  Loghain winked at him again and Alistair grinned.

Lys skipped ahead again to another stall.  Alistair looked up at Loghain, "I got a chain for Lys, but should I have gotten something for Teyrna Cousland too?  Loghain smiled, "No, I think Eleanor will be happy you remembered Lys.  Wait, tell you what, we'll find some flowers on the way to the Castle.  I think I saw a vendor near the road.  Ladies always like flowers."

Alistair grinned, then frowned as he pulled out his purse.  "I still have more than a sovereign, will that be enough?"

"More than enough," Loghain replied.  "You must have gotten a good deal on the chain."

"One sovereign seventy for the chain and a pendant."

"I'm impressed, Alistair.  You learn fast."

Alistair smiled at the praise from the Teyrn.  It had turned into a good day.

As they walked through the Fair, the town's folk and merchants noticed the stable boy walking with the young noble woman and the famous Teyrn.  The rumor mill ground further.  So he wasn't just a servant.  The packages had been his.  And the Lady and the Teyrn had retrieved him from the guardhouse and now he accompanied them again.

Soon a commotion was heard beyond the Fair, near the lake.  The guards, pushing several young boys sticky from honey cakes ahead of them, marched them around the Fair to the guardhouse.  Alistair stopped to watch.  He wondered if things would just be worse when Lys and the Teyrn left or if Loghain's seemingly magical, protection would last.

They found the flower vendor as they left the Fair.  Lys was suitably impressed that Alistair would think to buy flowers for her mother.  And even more pleased when he handed her a small bunch of Andraste's Grace.  Their walk back up the hill to the Castle was blessedly uneventful.  They both looked forward to an evening of Rebellion tales and a good rest before the Tourney the next day.

 

 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. If you have time, please review. Book 1 may be complete, but I'm working on Book 2.
> 
> After completing Brief Shining Moments, I re-read and edited the entire work. From Chapter 14 on I had the support of my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion which resulted in far fewer errors. Any remaining are mine alone. There may be a few tweaks to wording, but no content changes.
> 
> I’ve received the support of many reviewers. Mike3207, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Caraine, clafoung, SnowHelm, katdancer2, dustywalker, Easternviolet, ElyssaCousland, Nymra, ChaoticHarmony1991, EveHawk, susyjohn, Judy, maradeux, DjinniGenie, Pollyanna24, Contess. Others have followed and favorited the story or posted kudos. Thanks to all of you.
> 
> I created some appendices with commissioned art, timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure.


	9. The Tourney

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:18 Dragon 1 August === Castle Redcliffe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

"Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…"  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 9: THE TOURNEY**

* * *

**9:18 Dragon  1 August  ===  Castle Redcliffe**

The Tourney opened on 1 August with great ceremony, but no contests.  As with most things, Arl Eamon's Orlesian wife, Arlessa Isolde, determined the program and chose to ape Orlesian customs or, at least, her understanding of Orlesian customs.  Although she had only lived briefly in Orlais, she continued to believe all things Orlesian were superior to anything Fereldan.  Her beliefs did not endear her to the King, the nobility or the people.  Loghain had been happy to skip the Opening Day Invocation and spend it with Lys and Alistair at the Fair.

After tea, honey cakes and another installment in his continuing story of the Rebellion, the children had gone to bed tired, full and happy.  Of course, Loghain simplified the Rebellion story, leaving out the goriest and most scandalous bits.  Loghain did not skip over the assassination of the Rebel Queen, Moira, and attempted murder of her son Prince Maric in 8:96 Blessed by a Fereldan Bann.  Nor did he omit the story of Loghain, himself, watching his father die as he led King Maric away from the attack on the outlaw community.  He told of the trek through the Wilds, but made the meeting with the witch somewhat less disturbing than it had been.

Teyrn Loghain played up King Maric and Queen Rowan's roles and played down his own, although with some difficulty as Lys was well versed in Rebellion lore, and added parts he tried to gloss over.  He recounted his diversionary tactic during the Battle of the Southron Hills, fighting in Queen Moira's signature purple cloak.  The costly victory allowed the main rebel force to defeat the attacking Orlesians.  He told of Rowan's subsequent rescue of him and the remaining Knights as part of that battle and extolled King Maric's bravery and skill with a sword.  Victory had allowed the rebel forces to retreat and regroup, although, as he explained, they still faced years of struggle.  He told of the Night Elves and the escape of the Rebel Army to Gwaren where they again faced the Usurper's forces.

Alistair hung on his every word, hungry for stories about King Maric, but also attention from people who cared about him.  He chuckled at the fact he could stay on his horse, when King Maric was challenged to do so.  He now understood Loghain's cryptic comment when they were riding.  He relaxed more in Loghain's presence, freely teasing Lys, but also occasionally Loghain, himself.  That, Loghain thought ruefully, may be a mixed blessing as the boy had the quirky, somewhat sarcastic, often badly timed Theirin humor.

The children went off to bed full of stories and honey cake.  Loghain walked over to the King's apartments.  King Maric opened the door, tired from the day's ceremonies and evening's banquet.

"Knowing there are four more nights of these, I couldn't manage another moment of Isolde's idea of elegance," King Maric groused, "so I left early.  You will join us tomorrow night.  No more escapes."

Loghain laughed, "I actually had a pleasant evening, Your Majesty."

King Maric glared, "A quiet dinner followed by perusal of a new map I suppose.  I saw the book seller earlier and expected you would return with something new."

"In fact I did buy a map, but, no, I spent the evening with Lys Cousland and her young friend telling them stories of the Rebellion."

"You can use his name, Loghain.  It's Alistair, I believe.  He certainly has the looks, doesn't he?  But like Cailan, he has his mother's eyes.  It was like seeing hers when I spoke to him yesterday.  Maker, this is not what she intended.  Since Eamon is creeping around me anticipating exile to Maker knows where, I assume you and Bryce have spoken to him?"

"Yes.  It will be arranged as agreed.  I thought I should let you know, Alistair is staying with me during the Tourney.  It gets him out of the stables and puts him close to the Couslands.  Their apartments are more crowded; I had the extra room."

"As always, a good plan Loghain," King Maric replied wistfully.  "Telling Rebellion stories?  Did he ask for that?"

"No, Lys did, when she realized he knew nothing of the history."

King Maric chuckled, "Ah yes our little historian.  She does love stories.  I take it he's a good companion then?  I can't imagine you putting up with an annoying child, even for Lys or me."

"He is.  He and Lys are good friends.  It's interesting to watch them.  He manages to keep up with her.  He even manages to calm her when she has one of her more passionate moments.  They complement each other.  There is one drawback of course, he seems to have inherited your sense of humor.  Spoils an otherwise fine boy."

The King scowled as Loghain smirked and continued.  "Well, you look worn out by the festivities, Your Majesty.  I'll let you get your rest.  Do you need me in the morning?"

"No, not tomorrow.  We'll resume our breakfasts on the third day of the Tourney.  Just be here to go to the Tourney with us."

"Sleep well my friend," Loghain said.  Squeezing the king's shoulder briefly, he left.

**9:18 Dragon 2 August === Redcliffe Tourney Grounds**

The morning promised another fine autumn day.  Loghain would go to King Maric's apartments shortly to accompany the King and Cailan to the Tourney grounds.

"Good morning, Your Grace," a quiet voice said behind him.  He turned to find Alistair fully dressed in his new clothes, which had arrived as promised from the merchant, his cloak in his hands.

"Alistair, you're up.  I was about to wake you.  The Arl's serving maid just delivered a veritable feast for our breakfast.  Let's enjoy it."

"Thank you, Your Grace."

Loghain frowned, "What happened to calling me Teyrn Loghain?"

Alistair offered his shy grin, "I'm practicing for the Grandstand today.  I'll need to be appropriately behaved in public I think."

Loghain nodded, approvingly.  "Nice recovery.  You will need to behave well.  I'll forgive you, but only if you sit with me and help me devour this feast."

Alistair's grin widened as he sat at the table.  "I can do that," he looked up mischievously, "…Your Grace."

Loghain pretended to scowl, then asked, "so, when do you plan on giving Lys the chain?"

Alistair grimaced, "I'm not sure.  Maybe during the Tourney.  I've never been, but I think there will be time between contests, perhaps?  I have it with me.  Would that be appropriate?"

"Perfectly appropriate, Alistair.  Oh, and here, before I forget.  Some coin for today, should you want to buy the Lady a honey cake.  The girl can never get enough.  I'll tell you a secret, her Mum likes them too."

"The honey cakes all around I guess?”  Alistair grinned, spearing some cheese. “  Teyrn Loghain, can you tell me what to expect today?  I went to the Tourney once a few years ago and stood with the town folk, but I couldn't see what was happening.

"Well, I'm not the expert Alistair, but I can give you an idea.  In Ferelden, our Tournaments or Tourneys usually include four major competitions.  The first day, that would be yesterday, they hold the Invocation.  The second day they hold the Elimination Duel.  That's today.  On the third Day, all the Archery competitions happen.  On the fourth day, the Individual Duels take place.  Then on the final Day, the entrants engage in the Melee before mid-day and the Award Ceremony ends the Tournament after the mid-day bells.  In Orlais they have a competition for their Chevaliers, mounted knights, using lances called jousting.  Since we don't have mounted knights using lances we don't include jousting in Fereldan Tourneys.  More to himself, than Alistair, he muttered, "Although I'm surprised the Orlesian hasn't convinced Eamon to create a troop of Chevalier just to hold a joust."

Alistair tried and failed to stifle a chuckle.

"You heard that?”  Loghain asked.  Alistair shrugged looking guilty.  "No matter, my opinion of the Orlesian is not secret, but back to the Tourney.  Today you'll see the Elimination Duels.  All the knights who enter are paired and duel during the first round.  The winner of each duel goes on to the next level.  At the end only one Knight is left and he or she is the winner.  Usually there are two separate Eliminations, one for experienced Knights beginning in the morning after Terce and the other for Young Knights and Older Squires called the Vesper Eliminations later in the day.

"I imagine Teagan may participate today.  I'm sure several Highever Knights will, as well.  Fergus will not.  He's too young and the Teyrn too important to risk injury.  In a year or so Fergus will join in the Vespers Duel, but not this year.

"Tomorrow all the Archery competitions take place.  I'm not sure of the order, but there's one for each type of bow: short, long and cross and then a final open competition.  Points are awarded to each archer based on their accuracy.  The archer with the most points wins in each competition except the open one.  In the open competition, a live bird or papingo is tied to a pole and must be hit as it flutters about trying to free itself.  It's quite difficult.  The first archer to kill the bird wins.

"On the third day the duels between Knights who have extended personal challenges to other Knights take place.  Some of these are friendly competitions.  Others are true grudge matches and must be carefully monitored to ensure they don't become matches to the death.  Each knight has a pavillion at the Tourney Grounds.  If one Knight offers a challenge, he has his squire nail his crest to the pavilion of the knight he challenges.  You can tour the pavillions and see which challenges have been offered.  The challenges must be made by sundown today so the event can be organized.

"You should tour the pavilions by the Tourney grounds, Alistair.  Perhaps Teyrn Cousland or Fergus will take you and Lys during the break one day.  You'll find food vendors, the knights' pavilions and the infirmary tent.  Many senior nobles travel with their own healers, as the Couslands do, but a common infirmary is also provided for the rest by the host.  Often mage healers from the Circle of Mages are requested and they come with their Templars.  Being married to so pious a woman," he sneered, "I doubt Eamon has done so.

"On the final day the Melee takes place again just after Terce," he continued in a more normal tone, "In the Melee the entrants form up and engage each other with no regard for group tactics or organization.  Each fighter fights for him or herself.  This is the most dangerous event because it has few rules.  Participants are often injured and occasionally die.  Many nobles forbid their heirs from participating.  Cailan, for example, will never be permitted to join the Melee.  I doubt Teyrn Bryce will allow Fergus to join either.

"After the mid-day bells on the final day the winners receive their awards and the host, in this case Arl Eamon, closes the Tournament.  Lots of ceremony again, but more interesting than the opening.  You'll want to attend the final day.  Did that help Alistair?"

"Yes, thank you Teyrn Loghain.  It helps a lot.”  He wiped his mouth and grinned nervously. “  I should probably go to the Couslands now, Your Grace."

"You should Alistair, before I tire of hearing my honorific.”  Loghain smiled at the boy. “  Enjoy yourself today Alistair.  You'll be with the best company at the Tourney."

"You too, Teryn Loghain.  Will we see you tonight or will you be at the dinner?"

"Oh, I'll need to make a dinner appearance tonight.  His Majesty wanted company after enduring the banquet on his own last night.”  Loghain observed wryly, "Perhaps tomorrow, I'll plead age and stay with you and Lys."

"I'll tell Lys," Alistair promised as he left.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

He knocked on the Cousland apartment door.  Lys swung it open, green eyes bright with excitement.  "Oh, Ali, look at you in your fine new clothes."

Alistair blushed.  "Good morning, Lady Melysande.  I hope I am not too early, My lady," he responded, bowing smartly.  He entered the common room where the Teyrn and Teyrna sat at the table eating.  "Good morning, Your Graces," he said to the Teyrn and Teyrna, bowing again.

Eleanor smiled.  "You have excellent manners, young man," She praised.  "Thank you again for the flowers.  They were a thoughtful gift.  Don't they look lovely?”  The flowers he'd given the Teyrna stood on a small table under the window.  Lys' Andraste's Grace bouquet stood on the dining table.

"I think," said the Teyrna, "you deserve a token from us as a thank you.”  She smiled at Lys conspiratorially and plucked an Andraste's Grace sprig from the bunch. “  Come here Alistair," she beckoned.  Blushing slightly at the praise, he walked to the Teyrna.  Putting the sprig on his cloak, she kissed his forehead causing further blushing.  Maker, he thought, I could get used to this.  "You look like a perfect escort for Lys."

Lys clapped her hands in delight.

"Alistair, you do look handsome," Eleanor complemented, "but please call me Teyrna Eleanor as do the rest of the household.  You should use Bryce's honorific in public, but no need to be so formal with Lys and me."

Alistair scuffed his shoe then managed a clear, "Thank you, Teyrna Eleanor and Lady Lys."

He looked up to receive a smile and look of sympathy from the Teyrn.  He flashed his shy grin back.  Makers Breath, Bryce thought, he looks just like King Maric when he does that.  He got up from the table.  "Alright, ladies, Alistair and I are ready to depart.  Are you ready as well?"

"Yes, Papa, I'm ready."

"Eleanor, love?"

"I just need to get my cloak.  Tana, do you and Marin have the baskets?" she enquired of the serving maids who would accompany them.  "Freya?  Nyla?  Ready?”  All answered, yes, Teyrna Eleanor.  The Cousland entourage departed for their carriage, which would take them to the Tourney Grounds.  The Grounds stood on a flat expanse of land some distance from the Castle and village.

Alistair looked up as the Teyrn addressed him.  "Have you been to the Funalis Tourney in past years, Alistair?  The view from the Grandstand will be better than from the field I imagine."

Alistair smiled to himself, glad he had asked Teyrn Loghain about the Tourney earlier.  "I have, Your Grace, but, you are correct, I couldn't see much.  Is today the Elimination Duels?  This morning is for the Knights, followed by the Vespers Tourney for the young Knights and older Squires, right?"

Bryce smiled, "Yes, I plan to stay for the entire day as it's always interesting to see the new talent.  The ladies may decide to return earlier.  You may stay with me or return, as you wish."

"Thank you, Your Grace," Alistair leaned over to Lys, "Where's Lord Fergus?"

"He was invited to sit in the King's box with Cailan.  He went to the King's apartments earlier to travel to the Tourney with them.  He and Cailan have become good friends," she added.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

"The carriage pulled up next to the Grandstand entrance.  The Cousland party spilled out and the two children surveyed the surrounding plateau.  It overlooked Lake Calenhad, which could be seen in the distance , the water flickering between the brightly colored pavillions dotting the field.  The clatter of armor, pounding of a blacksmith's mallet and flapping of banners greeted them.  Smells of the blacksmith's forge, oiled armor and food mixed with the fresh air as the wind blew off the lake.  Squires and servants rushed about in an effort to prepare their Knights for the mock battles.  The Knights themselves were mostly in their tents, although a few stood outside, newly polished armor flashing in the bright sunlight.  Lys saw Cailan and Fergus walking toward them.

"Good morning, Your Highness," her mother greeted Cailan.  The rest of the party curtsied or bowed to the Crown Prince.

"And to you, Your Graces," Cailan responded happily.  "Isn't this a glorious sight?  I can't wait to see the duels today."

Alistair slid to the back of the group, not wanting to catch his half-brother's attention.

Fergus laughed, "Cailan, I swear, you want to relive every past battle with you as the Knight who saves the day."

"Well, why not," Cailan retorted. "Your parents, Loghain and my father saved Ferelden. Why shouldn't we have equally glorious lives?"

"I think I'll settle for peace and contentment," Fergus countered. "I'm not sure how glorious war truly is."

"Spoilsport," Cailan groused. "Let's find our box. I think the morning duels are about to begin.”  He turned to the Teyrn and Teyrna, "I hope you will visit the royal box later.  With Lady Melysande, of course," he added smiling at Lys.

"Of course, Your Highness, we would be honored," Bryce responded.  "We should proceed to our box as well."

The Cousland party climbed the stairway to the Grandstand entrance and moved toward their box in the front rows.  The section reserved for the Teyrn of Highever lay to the right of and slightly below the Royal box.  The Arl and Arlessa, as Tourney hosts, joined the King in the Royal box much to Loghain's annoyance.

The Tourney proceeded much as Loghain had described.  Elimination duels took up the first day.  Teagan participated, but fell in the fourth round.  The Couslands followed the fortunes of several Highever Knights during the course of the day.  In the morning matches one Highever Knight fought with a magnificent great sword and the other with dual blades.

The dual wielder's use of a long sword and dagger amazed Alistair, who quickly understood how the reach of the long sword provided a benefit over a dagger in the main hand.  Instead of a shield, the dual wielder held a dagger for close in damage in her off hand.  The lack of protection from a shield made the dual wielder's style appear more dangerous.  Quickness, however, combined with the varying reach of the two weapons brought the Highever Knight victory after victory in the competition.  Alistair admired the Knight's prowess, but thought he would still prefer sword and shield; dual wielding, however, might be something to try some day.  He was quick and athletic.  _Maybe I could ask Teyrn Loghain what he thinks._

As the final competition approached, the Highever dual wielder was one of the two remaining Knights.  Ser Kellian was a Captain in the Teyrn's guard and had proven herself in Tourney competition in the past.  All the Highever party anxiously cheered their Knight.  Ser Kellian first saluted the King, and then turned to salute her Lord, Teyrn Cousland.  Lys cheered and offered her Cousland blue ribbon to Ser Kellian as a token.  Gallantly, Ser Kellian took the ribbon, tying it to her breastplate as she saluted Lys.

Both contestants walked to the center of the field and saluted each other.  The duel would continue until first blood.  The winner would be Champion of the Elimination Dueling event.  The opposing knight, Ser Malvic, used sword and shield.  Both held their long swords in their right hands.  Alistair watched, fascinated, as the dance began.

Ser Malvic feinted with his shield, then turned to his left and slashed with his sword in one continuous set of movements.  Ser Kellian blocked the sword with her dagger, then twisted to her left and slashed toward Ser Malvic's right side scoring a glancing blow.  She immediately stepped back away from Malvic's weapons.  Malvic turned to face Ser Kellian and feinted again, this time with his sword, starting low then rushing forward to bash Ser Kellian with his shield.  Ser Kellian blocked the shield bash with her sword arm, moving toward Malvic, and reaching over his lowered sword with her dagger to score another hit.  As yet, neither Knight had drawn blood.  The duel continued in similar fashion for some time with various feint, thrust and parry sequences.  Each Knight scored hits, but neither drew blood.

Eventually, Ser Malvic tired which gave Ser Kellian's quick, athletic style an advantage.  Ser Malvic again rushed the smaller Knight and bashed her with his shield.  As the shield came toward her, Ser Kellian dropped, rolled to her left throwing Ser Malvic completely off balance as the shield bash failed to connect with a body.  Ser Kellian bounced up, standing close to her opponent and drew struck with her dagger finding the unprotected spot under Ser Malvic's arm.  Blood was drawn.

A cheer went up from the Highever contingent as their Knight won the day.  Ser Malvic graciously yielded to his victorious opponent.  Both Knights then moved to stand before the royal box and salute the King.  Ser Kellian went over to bow to her liege and his family.  She sent a special smile to Lys, who bowed back, clearly considering her a model.

Lys turned to Alistair, "See, that's why I want to be a dual wielder.  I'll fight like that someday.  You and Fergus can fight with sword and shield if you like, but I'll be the Champion."

From her tone, Alistair realized she wasn't smiling or teasing, she was as serious as he'd ever heard her.  He cocked his head and decided teasing was not called for.  He looked at his friend, "If you can fight like that you probably will," he agreed.

"Oh, Alistair," Eleanor protested with a smile, "please don't encourage her.  I'd prefer to see her proficient with long bow and out of the melee of battle."

"Mum, I'll learn the bow as well.  There's no reason I can't be proficient at both," Lys objected.  "Don't worry Ali, she's not annoyed with you," she assured him as she saw his uneasiness at the Teyrna's comment.  "Mum, don't pick on Alistair, he's not used to our squabbling."

Eleanor put her arm around Alistair's shoulders, "I'm sorry Alistair, Lys is right we can be overwhelming.  I wasn't annoyed with you at all.  You've been a wonderful guest and companion for Lys today.”  Then she shocked Alistair by pulling him closer and kissing the top of his head.

_Maker,_ he thought, _this must be what it's like to have a mother._ He blushed, but didn't pull away as the Teyrna kept her arm around him and reached out her hand to Lys.

"Let's go, you two, the carriage should be outside waiting.  Bryce, I believe, will stay for the rest of the matches.  He can join Loghain and the King if he wishes."

Teyrn Bryce nodded and walked out with his wife and family to see them board their carriage.  "I'll return with King Maric and Loghain," he assured Teyrna Eleanor.  "Fergus and Cailan will be with us as well.  I doubt we will stay past the first few rounds if we're to make it to the Arlessa's banquet."

On the way back to the Castle, Alistair remembered that Teyrn Loghain would be joining the King at the banquet that evening.  He was glad he'd eaten well during the day, as he wasn't sure where he would get dinner.  Perhaps he could go to the Guards mess or just sneak into the kitchens for bread and cheese.

"Umm…Lys," he murmured, "I told Teyrn Loghain I'd remind you he would be attending the banquet tonight.  He said, perhaps he'd continue his story tomorrow night."

Teyrna Eleanor overheard Alistair and guessed he was wondering where to spend his evening if Loghain was gone.  She patted him on the shoulder.  "Alistair, you'll have dinner with Lys tonight.  You can go to sleep in our quarters until we return from dinner.  Loghain will come for you then."

"I…thank you, Your Grace.  That's most kind."

"Nonsense, Alistair.  You're Lys' friend, our friend.  Of course, you'll stay with her.  Besides, you're a sensible boy; you'll keep her out of trouble," the Teyrna smiled, as Alistair blushed and Lys scowled.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. If you have time, please review. Book 1 may be complete, but I'm working on Book 2.
> 
> After completing Brief Shining Moments, I re-read and edited the entire work. From Chapter 14 on I had the support of my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion which resulted in far fewer errors. Any remaining are mine alone. There may be a few tweaks to wording, but no content changes. 
> 
> I’ve received the support of many reviewers. Mike3207, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Caraine, clafoung, SnowHelm, katdancer2, dustywalker, Easternviolet, ElyssaCousland, Nymra, ChaoticHarmony1991, EveHawk, susyjohn, Judy, maradeux, DjinniGenie, Pollyanna24, Contess. Others have followed and favorited the story or posted kudos. Thanks to all of you.
> 
> I created some appendices with commissioned art, timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure.


	10. The Archer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:18 Dragon 3 and 4 August === Redcliffe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.  
> A/N: PLEASE REVIEW, FAVORITE, SUBSCRIBE AND/OR FOLLOW. AS A NEW AUTHOR, I WELCOME ENCOURAGEMENT, SUGGESTIONS, THOUGHTS AND CRITIQUES.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 10:  THE ARCHER**

* * *

**9:18 Dragon   3 & 4 August  ===  Redcliffe**

The next day the archery competition followed a similar pattern, but no Highever contestants made it to the final round of the archery contests. Lys turned to her mother, "See, Mum, you should have entered. You could easily have won the short bow contest. And I bet you might have killed the papingo, too."

"That's sweet of you, but I think my archery competition days are over. I'd win a few rounds, but the Champions would best me, I'm afraid. The contestants must have stamina, as well as skill. I'm afraid my stamina would be wanting, my darling."

Alistair reminded Lys that Loghain planned to skip the Arlessa's banquet that evening. "He said he would have dinner with us and continue his story of the Rebellion," Alistair continued excitedly. "Will you have dinner with us in his rooms?"

Lys looked to her mother and Freya, "May I?" she asked, her eyes pleading with Eleanor to say yes.

"Of course, Lys, if Loghain invites you. Freya will let you know when you need to return for bed." Eleanor replied, then added, "but I expect you to offer no argument when she comes for you. Agreed?"

"Yes, Mum," Lys agreed, "but what if it's in the middle of the story?"

"Well, Freya can decide if you may stay longer, but you've heard the story of the Rebellion many times. If you miss a small part, it won't matter."

"But, Mum, we're not going to the Tourney tomorrow are we? It's just dueling again and none of our Knights are competing. We don't have to be up so early."

Eleanor sighed and looked at Freya, "There is that. Really Lys, sometimes you can be exasperating. Freya will take that into consideration, use her judgment and you will abide by her decision. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Good, now let's go in. "

They continued into to their rooms. "Alistair, why don't you join us and freshen up here, then you and Lys can see if Loghain's back," Eleanor suggested. Alistair, of course, understood that he should agree and immediately did so.

"Use Fergus' room, Alistair. You can wash up there And the privy is through that door in the back," she added. "Do you need anything else? No? Come on out when you're done."

Alistair emerged later and settled into a chair to wait for Lys. Once she joined him, Lys read one of her stories to Alistair while they waited for Teyrn Loghain and her father to return. They headed over to the Teyrn's room with Eleanor, once she believed Loghain had time to freshen up himself.

Eleanor and Loghain watched the two children. Alistair had a golem figure and Lys' doll was attacking it. Eleanor shook her head ruefully, "That girl could make a sparring match out of two oak leaves, I think."

Loghain voiced her unspoken thought, "They're well matched."

Eleanor sighed, "And I worry it will break their hearts one day. Will he acknowledge Alistair?"

"I don't know. Until Funalis, I'd have said probably not, but meeting the boy affected him. Then learning of his treatment… it may change his intentions. He … it's painful for him so he avoids the subject, even with me."

"Lys and Alistair have a connection. Last year I thought it a passing fancy on her part. She was.. is so young, but this year, seeing them together, it's as if they've known each other all their lives."

"You and Bryce have that kind of connection, Ellie. You fit together like two halves of a whole; you complement each other in every way. If you'd met at their age it would probably have been the same."

"That is what worries me," she replied, ruefully. "You've had that connection too I think."

"Not exactly, but perhaps close. Unfortunately, it does not ensure happy endings or long lives."

"And that's exactly what I fear for them. If he's never acknowledged, if someone decides to use him for their own purposes… There are so many variables."

"Well, the plan Bryce and I agreed with King Maric should prevent his use against the King, whether King Maric or Cailan. I'll be monitoring Eamon closely. King Maric will know if I find any evidence of Orlesian conspiracies in Redcliffe. We'll be watching the Arlessa separately, I will never trust that woman."

"I haven't the heart to keep Lys away from him, so we'll let this proceed for now. I suppose it's the uncertainty, but I feel some unspecified sense of foreboding sometimes when I see them together."

"Now, you're going all mystical on me, Ellie, that's not like you."

"No," Eleanor laughed, "it's not like me at all, which is why the feeling disturbs me so." She moved toward the door, "are you sure you want them both for the evening?"

"I am and you're just envious that I will have a simple meal and good company, while you and Bryce will need to attend the Orlesian's feast," Loghain gloated.

"Well, I guess that envy is not mystical at all and pretty obvious Teyrn Mac Tir." Eleanor chuckled. "Will we see you in the morning, or will you attend the Tourney with the King? Lys and I are not planning on attending tomorrow."

"I will be riding with my two companions there, if the day is fine and you and Bryce agree. Would you care to join us? Or will just the two of you take the day to for yourselves, as I understand Fergus is on permanent Cailan duty and will attend with the Royal party again, unless Cailan decides to stay away."

"If you're offering to take our youngest off our hands for the day, I accept," Eleanor replied with a grin. "Freya would enjoy the day to herself as well. She and Nyla haven't been to the Fair. You are really amazingly good with the two of them."

Loghain laughed, "Actually, Alistair is amazingly good with Lys. He can be calming when her passions threaten to get the better of her. He comes right back at her with logic and reason or humor or both and stops her in her tracks at times. But, then, she can pull him out of himself when he gets shy or embarrassed or sad. As I said, they complement each other so well. "

"Doesn't he have a temper? His father certainly does."

"I imagine he's learned to control it, as it serves no purpose when he has no power. Because he blushes so easily, people must think his emotions are on his sleeve, but I suspect that's not wholly true. So, yes, I suspect he has a temper and like his father's he'll make foolish choices should he let it overcome him. I just haven't seen it yet. I only hope they don't ever get angry at each other. That would be a massive battle and I'd hate to be anywhere nearby," he said as he pretended to cringe in fear.

"Well, that would certainly spoil our visit," she agreed and looked at Lys giggling as she and Alistair share some joke. "Since I can't take him home with us, I hope your plan works. I hate leaving him to the Arlessa's mercies."

"Of course it will work. The best minds in the kingdom devised it." He chuckled, "You may doubt me, but do you doubt your husband, the King and your daughter?"

Eleanor left the room shaking her head and chuckling.

Dinner arrived soon after and the three sat down to a simple meal of venison stew, bread and cheese, followed by a sweet baked concoction of apples, honey and crumbled bread. Sipping sweet cider, they talked at first of the tournament. Loghain, of course, was an accomplished bowman and Lys was already learning the skill from her mother and Arms Master. The conversation soon turned to the Night Elves, the troop of elves led by Loghain during the Rebellion. After the Battle of the Southron Hills, Loghain formed the Night Elves and soon had the Orlesian forces terrified to leave their camps after dark. The respite they provided allowed the rebel forces to continue to regroup and fight on.

Alistair looked puzzled. "But you wear heavy plate, how could you be an archer? Don't archers wear leathers?"

"I didn't always wear heavy plate, Alistair. I became a soldier after I met King Maric. I grew up hunting with a bow and wearing leathers. I learned about fighting with blades from my father. He served in King Brandel's army for a time, but I was originally a bowman. Leading the Night Elves came naturally."

"So you can do both now? Use a bow and fight with sword and shield?"

"I can."

Alistair looked thoughtful. "And King Maric, can he use a bow?"

Loghain laughed, "Not safely."

"That's mean, Teyrn Loghain," Lys chided. "He probably never learned as a boy. Mother says you learn the bow best when you start young."

"Well, Lys, that's probably true of both bow and blades, but you're right, I don't think King Maric was taught the bow as a child."

"Could I learn both?" Alistair wondered.

"If you have the aptitude, I don't see why not," Loghain responded. "Would you like me to let the Arms Master know you want to learn both bow and blades?"

As he expected, Alistair's shy smile crept across his face, "Yes, please." He was quiet for a moment, then continued. "I have another question. The winner today was a dual wielder, do you think I should try that? I thought I would prefer sword and shield, but now I'm not sure."

"You should try both," Loghain replied. "You are strong enough for sword and shield, certainly, but you might be quick enough to dual wield. The Arms Master will suggest which he thinks best suits you. You don't need to decide just yet." Alistair rewarded him with another smile.

'Maker,' Loghain thought, 'it takes so little to please the boy. Why would Eamon allow him to be treated so badly.' King Maric's brief affair happened after Rowan's death, so it wasn't infidelity, unless to Rowan's memory? Does Eamon simply resent the obligation placed upon him to foster Alistair and the problems it caused with his wife? Or does he simply not know how to deal with a child. He sighed to himself and realized Lys and Ali were waiting for him to continue the story of the Rebellion. Loghain sat in a chair next to the hearth. Lys and Ali both settled on the floor at his feet curled against each other and leaning against the settle, which faced the small fire.

Loghain related the years of soliciting support and growing the army, initial retreat through the Brecilian passage to Gwaren, the battle there, and finally, the intelligence regarding the opportunity for battle at West Hill and the great defeat suffered by the rebels. Of course, Loghain, Rowan and King Maric survived, but the most of the rebel army, including Rowan's father, Rendorn, Arl of Redcliffe, died. It was after Rowan and Loghain rescued King Maric, that he berated them for leaving the army during the battle to rescue him. He argued that they lost sight of their goal, which was to save Fereldan from Orlais, not to put him on the throne. He suggested that if they'd been with the army at West Hill, perhaps more of it could have been saved. [3]

"By a tactical retreat?" Alistair asked.

"Well, yes," Loghain agreed. "Although given the number of Orlesian troops and the speed at which the Chevaliers could move, that might have been more wishful thinking than reality."

"So how did you, King Maric and Queen Rowan escape the Usurper's Chevaliers?"

"Ah, well that's an interesting tale, but it's getting late so perhaps we'll have to resume tomorrow night. I think I can skip the banqueting again. We returned to Gwaren, but it's how we got there makes the tale," he said enigmatically.

Lys boasted. "I know, you escaped through the Deep Roads." She stopped, aware that her outburst spoiled the secret for Alistair. "I shouldn't spoil it should I Teyrn Loghain? I'll keep the rest secret." Alistair frowned at her, then got up and went to sit on the other chair by the fire, sulking.

"I'm sorry, Ali, I know I was mean to show off like that. I shouldn't have boasted about hearing the tale before. I won't spoil it for you again, I promise." She pleaded. "Don't be mad. Come back and sit with me. Please."

Just then Freya knocked and came in at Loghain's call. "Time for bed, my lady."

Surprising Freya, Lys got up, thanked Loghain for the story and said goodnight. She hugged Loghain and looked at Alistair, but he refused to look back so she only whispered, "Good night, Ali. Sweet dreams," and touching his shoulder leaned in and kissed his cheek as she left.

As she walked out, Alistair looked up, "Time for me to sleep as well I suppose. Thank you Teyrn Loghain for dinner and the story. Sorry I spoiled the end but sometimes Lys…"

"Ali," the Teyrn interrupted, "Lys is impetuous and doesn't always think before she speaks. She doesn't mean to hurt your feelings you know."

"I know," Alistair whispered. "It's just...I feel so stupid sometimes. It will be alright in the morning." He brightened, "It has been a good day. Good night, Teyrn Loghain."

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

As Alistair promised, it was alright in the morning. Both he and Lys apologized to each other and then forgot their disagreement as they rode out into the forest surrounding the Castle. Loghain surprised them both by wearing leathers, saying it was too warm for his plate. They retraced their earlier short ride, and then continued along the lakeshore to a small beach at the base of a cliff wherethey stopped for their midday meal. Loghain surprised them when he produced three bows, his, Lys' and one for Alistair.

"You want me to shoot?" Alistair stammered. "What if I hit you or Lys?"

"Don't worry Alistair, we'll be behind you," Loghain assured him. "

"Far behind you," Lys giggled, as Alistair pretended offense.

"Enough, Lys," Loghain gently admonished. Lys looked apologetic.

"Now, first, Alistair, why don't you watch Lys and I." Loghain leaned a large driftwood log up against the cliff face. "Not the best target, but it will do."

Loghain took his bow, motioned the children to stand behind him, nocked an arrow and let fly. The arrow stuck at the center of the log at the height of a man's shoulders. Alright, Lys, your turn. Lys walked closer to a mark Loghain placed in the sand. She took her stance, raised her small bow, sighted her target, then nocked her arrow and sighted again. Knowing Loghain was watching made her nervous, but she knew she had improved since he last saw her shoot. She took a breath, held it, pulled and loosed her arrow fly. It too stuck in the log. She turned to Loghain, a huge grin on her face.

"Well, Lady Lys that was well done. Now, take your stance again, so Alistair can imitate it and I'll help him with his first shot. He'll shoot from the same distance to start."

Lys moved to the right and took her stance again. Alistair walked nervously up to the mark, Loghain following.

"Alistair, look at Lys' stance and try to imitate it. I'll correct you, once you've done that." The boy stood sideways to the target, spread his feet about shoulder width apart and evenly distributed his weight.

"Good," Loghain complemented. "Now, your bow. Hold it in your left hand and raise your arm toward the target until it is straight and even with your shoulder. Don't lock your elbow. If it locks release it slightly. Loghain adjusted Alistair's arm and hold on the bow. Now, let's practice pulling the bowstring without an arrow. Just don't release it or you might have a sore forearm, even with the arm guard, until you know how to do it correctly."

Loghain explained how Alistair was to raise his right arm, wrap three fingers around the bowstring at shoulder height and pull back past his cheek to his ear. Loghain reached around and put his hands over Alistair's on the bow and bow string to demonstrate the motions of the pull. Alistair practiced pulling until he could do it smoothly. Then Loghain produced an arrow and showed him how to nock it. More practice with the nocked arrow followed, with Loghain standing behind him to demonstrate again. Finally, Loghain told him to try a shot. Alistair nocked, drew and shot. The arrow did not hit the target.

"Ali, that's great," Lys cheered. When he looked at her in disbelief she added, "My first shot almost went through my foot. Yours made it to the base of the log. Your next one will hit, I'm sure."

Loghain agreed, "Lys is right, it's a good first try. Now try again. Steady yourself, sight and loose." Alistair tried again, with a similar result. Then the third try hit the tree.

"You hit it!" Lys announced.

"It didn't stick," he responded, dejected. Then he took a breath building his determination, nocked another arrow and shot. This one had more power and stuck in the target.

"Good," Loghain smiled approvingly. "Let's keep practicing. I'll find another log so you and Lys can both shoot. Hold your fire until I finish," he admonished with a wry grin. Both Lys and Alistair, stood back, bows lowered. Alistair looked at Lys with a silly grin on his face.

"I did just do that, right?" he asked. "I shot an arrow and hit the target?"

Lys wrinkled her nose, puzzled, "Of course you did silly." Alistair's grin widened. Maybe he could do this and be more than a stable boy. Apparently, Teyrn Loghain thought he could and Lys thought he could. He promised himself he would work hard with the Arms Master and soldiers during the year to prove them right. He still couldn't understand why the Couslands or Teyrn Loghain believed in him, but he decided, I should accept that they do and try to prove them right. He watched as Loghain set up another log against the cliff face.

Alistair was brought out of his meanderings when Lys hissed, "Loghain, there's something up there." She raised her eyes toward the cliff edge. Loghain stepped back out of sight of any one peering over.

"Well, well what have we here?" a voice called from the top of the cliff. Lys and Alistair looked up to see Cailan and Fergus peering over the edge with another boy in the background. "What are you two doing way out here?" Fergus asked. "Does Mum know you ran off?" Lys giggled as Loghain peered up from where he was standing against the cliff.

"I should ask the same of you two," Loghain barked.

"Teyrn Loghain," yelped Fergus, "I didn't see you there. So, I guess it's alright then and we don't have to rescue my sister."

"Not unless you think she needs rescuing from me and Alistair."

"No, of course not, Your Grace." Cailan could be heard laughing in the background at Fergus' discomfort.

"Cailan, you and Fergus come down with your guard and join us. You can show us how well you can shoot, instead of laughing at everyone ." The older boys led their mounts across the cliff to a path leading down to the shore.

Loghain was surprised to see a third boy with Cailan and Fergus. After a moment he realized it was Rendon Howe's eldest. Nathaniel was his name. A quiet boy as he recalled, but one often found in Fergus' company.

"Ah," said Fergus, "you've been teaching Alistair to shoot? We do have our bows and hoped for some game, but we've seen nothing today."

Lys giggled, "Right, because you're so quiet in the forest, the game would never hear you coming." Loghain noticed Nathaniel grin at Lys teasing.

Fergus and Cailan glared, 'You didn't hear us until we yelled."

"Of course I did," rejoined Lys. "I told Loghain there was something there." Cailan looked at Loghain, disbelieving, but Loghain raised his eyebrows indicating yes and affirming Lys' claim.

"She probably did, Cai…Your Highness. She has scary good hearing. Never whisper a secret if she is around. She'll always hear it." Fergus sighed. "If you can see her, she can hear you."

"I suppose I should remember that," Cailan snickered, "she might be useful as a spy one day. Just think, the beautiful Lady Cousland, entrancing everyone around her at Court, but in reality hearing every whispered plot and reporting back to the handsome King."

Fergus snorted, "Beautiful? But, I suppose your father is handsome, so that part is true."

Cailan glared at Fergus, "I was thinking of me," he snapped, then hesitated, "but, that's sort of morbid isn't it? I mean, Da would be…"

Fergus just stared back. "Right," Cailan continued, "time to change the subject. Loghain, can we join your lesson?"

Loghain just shook his head. "If you're finished eliminating your father, then, yes."

Cailan frowned, then turned to Lys and Alistair.

"An honor to see you again, Your Highness," Alistair bowed as he greeted the Prince. "And you, Lord Nathaniel."

Fergus trudged off in the direction they had come with two guards who dragged back a third log to use for a target. Then Fergus made sure the guard settled themselves some way down the beach. Loghain organized the shooting to ensure the safety of the two smaller archers, who, due to their size stood closer to the target than the older boys. To Loghain's surprise, Nathaniel proved to be the best archer of the group. He soon grew bored with simple target shooting and went over to coach Alistair and Lys, while Loghain remained with Cailan and Fergus.

Taking a break for the midday meal, the group combined their food and Lys inveigled Loghain into telling the story of the Deep Roads. Surprisingly, Fergus, Nathaniel and Cailan had not heard the story before in such detail. Loghain held all four boys rapt attention. Lys carefully bit her tongue every time she was tempted to interrupt with an anticipatory comment. She did not care about the older boys, but she knew it would hurt Ali again.

Once Loghain finished the tale, the boys and Lys took a few more shots, but the sun was dropping toward the horizon and the royal Guard sergeant interrupted suggesting they return before it darkened. Loghain agreed and the group headed back to Redcliffe. As they rode, Cailan dropped back to chat with Alistair, much to his discomfort. Lys, riding alongside Alistair, for once kept silent.

"You shoot well," Cailan complemented. "Lys told me this was your first day with a bow."

"Thank, you, Your Highness," Alistair replied, cheeks reddening. Cailan was about to admonish him about using the honorific, when he realized that would only embarrass the boy more. It seemed he wasn't used to being around nobility, although he was completely comfortable with Loghain and the Couslands. Odd. Yet, Lys said he was Eamon's ward. He wondered why he had not met the boy on prior trips to Redcliffe? He stared at Alistair. Or had he? The boy certainly resembled a grimy ill-clothed stable boy the Arlessa was always scolding. Cailan shook his head.

"So, do you stay in the castle? I do not recall having seen you before?"

"No, Your Highness, I… well, right now I do, as I am assigned to serve as Lady Lys' escort, but I live at the Armory actually. I go to school and work for the Arms Master." Alistair decided it was not exactly a lie, as he would be moving there in a few days.

"Ah, that explains why I always see you with the Couslands." He chuckled and looked at Lys, "Claiming hearts already my lady?" Both Lys and Alistair blushed. Cailan changed the subject, "So Eamon is assuring that you, as his ward, have skills and education, of course. Well then, you can show me the Armory next time we visit. I'm afraid we won't have time on this visit, as we will leave as soon as the Tourney ends tomorrow."

"I'd be happy to, Your Highness," Alistair replied, breathing a sigh of relief that his half-truth would not be found out.

"Then I shall find you when we next visit, Alistair." Cailan moved back up to ride with Fergus. Alistair glanced at Lys who smiled back.

"I didn't offend him did I," Alistair asked, worried.

"No, of course not. He wants to see you again. He wouldn't have suggested the Armory visit if he didn't."

"I thought he was just being polite," Alistair replied.

"No, Cailan enjoys meeting people and finding out about them."

"Well, thank you for not saying I live in the stables," he reddened again.

"You told the truth. You have a room in the Armory and you are staying in the castle now."

"He's nice," Alistair added after a while, "I expected him to be more…I don't know, princely. I hope I do see him again." Afterall, even if Cailan did not know who he was, it would be nice to know his half-brother, even for only a brief moment.

The group rode on arriving at the castle just as the sun set. 

* * *

 3 Gaider, David, The Stolen Throne, location 4183 (Kindle Edition)

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. If you have time, please review. Book 1 may be complete, but I'm working on Book 2.
> 
> After completing Brief Shining Moments, I re-read and edited the entire work. From Chapter 14 on I had the support of my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion which resulted in far fewer errors. Any remaining are mine alone. There may be a few tweaks to wording, but no content changes.
> 
> I’ve received the support of many reviewers. Mike3207, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Caraine, clafoung, SnowHelm, katdancer2, dustywalker, Easternviolet, ElyssaCousland, Nymra, ChaoticHarmony1991, EveHawk, susyjohn, Judy, maradeux, DjinniGenie, Pollyanna24, Contess. Others have followed and favorited the story or posted kudos. Thanks to all of you.
> 
> I created some appendices with commissioned art, timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure.


	11. The Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:18 Dragon August === Castle Redcliffe; later in Denerim and Redcliffe again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

 “Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden   
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 11:  THE FAREWELL**

* * *

**9:18 Dragon  5 through 7 August  ===  Castle Redcliffe**

Alistair joined the Couslands for breakfast.  Loghain had joined King Maric at his request for the final morning of the Tourney.  After the activity of the day before including the ride, archery, dinner and another installment of the Rebellion story, Alistair was tired.  The night before Teyrn Loghain told the story of the second Battle of Gwaren, which happened after he, King Maric, Rowan and Katriel, came out of the Deep Roads.  A unit of dwarves' from the Legion of the Dead had guided the rebels through the Roads.  Of course, after Gwaren, there would be more battling and hiding, even though the tide turned in Ferelden's favor at the Battle of River Dane later that same year of 8:99 Blessed.

At River Dane, Loghain saw a High Dragon circling over the Frostbacks prior to the battle.  That Dragon ultimately gave the new Ninth Age its name.  The Rebellion finally succeeded when King Maric defeated the Usurper Meghren on top of Fort Drakon in single combat in 9:02 Dragon.  Loghain had already told that story.  Loghain promised Alistair more stories the next time they met.

Alistair already felt trepidation at the nearness of his friends' departures.  Lys, however, was excited to see the Melee and her excitement proved infectious as she explained what would happen that morning.

"It's sort of like a real battle, Ali," she exclaimed.  The knights charge each other and fight until only one is left standing.  Blades, axes, shields, maces, most hand weapons are allowed.  There is no magic, of course, and no ranged weapons."

"Magic?  In battle?”  Alistair asked, astonished.  "Is that even allowed?  Aren't mages dangerous?  Arlessa Isolde says they need to be locked away from normal people.  She was very angry when she heard there would be Mage healers in the infirmary tent at the Tourney.  The Arl agrees, I think, but he was afraid someone important would get hurt or die if there were no mages."

"Why do mages need to be locked up?  Nyla doesn't need to be locked up, does she?”  Lys appeared shocked.

"Alistair," Bryce sighed, "the Arlessa seems to have strong views about Mages.  Not everyone feels that way."

"We don't do we Papa?"

"No, Lys, we don't.  The Couslands always have a Mage healer in our household at Castle Cousland.  Our Guards and Army do as well.  Mages can heal, which is very helpful, but they can also use Primal magic against enemies – fire, lightening, frost or other magics to help in battle."

"You mean shoot a fireball?”  Lys suggested.

"That's right, but the Chantry controls mages outside the Tower quite carefully.  They send templars with mages or require the mage to periodically check in with templars at a chantry."

"Templars?  Like those in the village chantry?”  Alistair asked.

"Yes, Alistair.  Some templars guard chantries; other templars guard mages in the Circle Tower at Kinloch Hold in Lake Calenhad.  The templars have special training giving them powers, which stop mages from using magic.  They use those powers if a mage does something wrong.  Just like a Guard will stop a thief.”  Bryce didn't want to delve into mage hunting, apostates, maleficarum and other details of templars and mages at this point.  Apparently, the boy knew very little about magic, with much of it gleaned from Isolde's prejudiced rantings.  He hoped the simple explanation would suffice, at least for now.

"Lady Isolde says the templars do the makers work, just like the sisters and revered mothers," said Alistair.

"In that, I suppose Lady Isolde is mostly correct," responded the Teyrn.

"But, in Highever, you don't believe mages are evil?"

"No, no we don't.  We believe they are the Maker's children and their magic a gift from the Maker.  We believe magic should serve man and that magic, such as healing magic, for example, does just that.  In war, even Primal magic can serve man by serving the army, just as soldiers do."

Alistair ran his hand through his hair, frowning, "That seems right," he conceded, still looking confused.

"Alistair," Eleanor put her arm around his shoulders in a hug and kissed the top of his head, "good people can disagree sometimes.  It doesn't mean you have to choose between them.  You can listen to their thoughts and one day make up your own mind as to what you believe."

He looked up at the Teyrna and smiled.  Bryce gave his wife a grateful look, knowing the difficult conversation was over for now.  A knock on the door followed and then a servant entered to let the Teyrn know their carriage was ready.

"Let's get ready to go.  Our carriage awaits, I believe?”  The servant nodded.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The melee proved as exciting as Lys promised.  Almost sixty knights took part.  Once begun it was every knight for him or herself, very much as it would be in a real battle.  The two groups locked together in combat with no regard to group tactics or fighting as an organized unit; each participant fought as an individual.  Therefore, a sword and shield warrior might battle a more lightly armored dual blade-wielding rogue or a heavily armored warrior with great sword, axe or maul.  There was no battle plan and no assurance that a comrade would aid another in distress.  Success occurred when one knight yielded to another.  The winner of the melee was the last person left standing.

Highever knights participated in the melee and did well.  With one Knight the winner of the Elimination Duel and others fighting well in the melee, the Teyrn felt satisfied with Highever's showing at the Tourney.  In addition, other Highever Knights and Archers had placed well in their competitions; and no one had suffered a serious or disabling injury.  All in all a successful showing for the Teyrnir, which presaged a happy trip back to Castle Cousland.

Once the melee ended, the King and nobles took time for a midday feast.  The Tourney grounds emptied leaving the servants to prepare the area for the Awards and Closing Ceremonies later that day.

Since they would stay for the Awards and Closing Banquet, the Couslands chose to forego the feast and wander the Tourney grounds, purchasing food from the various vendors.  The smells of food mixed with that of leather, oiled armor, sweat and smoke from the smithy.  While the Couslands had seen, heard and smelled all this before, it was new and fascinating to Alistair.  Fergus, joining his family, noticed the Tourney grounds appeal to the boy and nudged his father.  "Let's take him to our tent and introduce him to Kellian and the rest."

Bryce agreed, "Good idea.  Maybe we should leave Lys with your Mother, this time."

"She'll be annoyed."

"Nothing your mother can't handle," Bryce grinned turning to Alistair.  "Alistair, come along with Fergus and me.  Lys can stay here with her mother.”  He looked at Eleanor, who frowned, then caught on.

"Come on Lys, there are some vendors over near the entrance.  We'll see their wares and get some honey cakes and cider to take back to the box with us.”  Lys scowled, but followed her mother, glancing back at her father, Fergus and Alistair as they walked off.  She smiled a little, as she saw her father put his hand on Alistair's shoulder."

"They're taking him to our pavillion aren't they?"

"Yes, dear.  I think Fergus thought some special attention would be good for him."

Lys frowned, then shrugged.  "Meaning I take too much attention?"

"Well, not exactly.  You take Alistair's attention.  When it's just you and Alistair he treats you as a friend, an equal.  He's even begun to do that with Loghain, I think.  But he's still intimidated by all of us."

"So, Fergus and Papa think this will make him feel at ease with them?"

"Yes, dear.  Fergus and Bryce like him very much, you know.  I believe Fergus has begun looking on him as a little brother of sorts."

"Fine," she replied pretending to pout, then smiled.  "I am glad Mum.  I'd like Fergus to think of him as a little brother, but that's not how I think of him.  He's a very special friend to me.  Now, can we get lots of honey cakes."

"As long as you promise not to eat all of them, we shall," her mother replied.

Alistair walked alongside the Teyrn, who had his arm around Alistair's shoulder.  He blushed, as Fergus recounted how well he'd done on his first day of shooting the day before.  He could almost imagine Fergus was treating him like a younger brother, as he'd heard him speak in a similar fashion about Lys.  His eyes widened as they approached a large pavillion in Cousland Blue and Green with the Cousland and Highever crests above the entry.  The Highever and Cousland guards and knights who competed in the Tourney stood talking, cleaning their armor or readying themselves for the Ceremonies.  The Teyrn, Fergus and Alistair simply strolled into their midst, as the men and women saluted their liege, then continued their tasks.

Fergus and his father went around the pavillion, speaking to each of the knights and guards, commenting on their performance, congratulating the Duel Champion and introducing Alistair as they went.  There was little ceremony, just respectful camaraderie between the Couslands and their sworn liegemen and women.

Alistair was astounded at the difference between this atmosphere and the stiff formality in place at Redcliffe.  He understood now how there could be no whipping or imprisonment at Highever.  These men and women would fight and die for Teyrn Bryce and Fergus because they respected and loved the Teyrn and his family, not because they feared them.  Not for the first time, he wished he could go home with Lys or at least to another noble who would treat him better.  He still did not believe much would change, once the two Teyrns left Redcliffe.

Bryce, Fergus and Alistair joined Lys and Eleanor in their box shortly before the Ceremonies began.  Alistair was subdued, only partially aware of the fanfares, cheering, bows and flourishes and final parade of Knights.  Lys guessed he was already thinking that tomorrow or the next day they would all be gone and he would be left alone again.  She grabbed his hand and when he looked at her, surprised, smiled and squeezed it.  He returned her smile with a weak grin.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

That night, all the adults and Fergus attended the final Banquet.  Lys and Alistair remained in the Cousland rooms again.

"Freya, may Alistair and I go up to the tower battlements?  It's a warm night, we'll return in three marks."

Freya observed the two and nodded yes.  Lys gathered up some cider, apples, the rest of the honey cakes and some cheese.  Alistair took two blankets.  "It's not quite sunset yet, it should be beautiful tonight.”  Lys observed.

The two children leaned on the battlements, shoulders touching, the red-blond head just slightly taller than the dark one, watching the sun set behind the Frostback Mountains.  Neither spoke of their hopes, fears or how much each would miss the other.

Alistair turned to Lys.  Even in the dark, Lys could tell he was blushing and she had no idea why.  He was fumbling with something in his belt pouch and muttering to himself when he could not get it open.

"Ali, can I help with that?"

"No," he snapped, then, "sorry, no, I'll get it."

"Fine, fine, I'll just ignore you and look at the stars on the lake," She walked to another spot on the battlement.

Alistair's shoulders sagged.  _You idiot, you're just messing this up._   He finally unlaced the pouch and pulled the small package out.  Lys was still looking away.  He walked up next to her.

"Sorry," he whispered.  "I, well it's a surprise.  I couldn't let you get your own surprise.”  He handed her the small packet.

Lys took the packet and looked at Alistair in shock.  "What is it?"

"Nothing bad, I promise.  It's a gift, Lys."

"You got me a gift?  Whatever for?"

"It's a thank you, I guess, for being my friend, for introducing me to Teyrn Loghain and your family.  Nothing that's happened would have happened if you didn't stand up for me.  Thank you, My Lady of the Stars."

Lys blushed and ripped the packet open.  The silver chain slipped out into her hand.  "Oh, Ali, it's the chain I liked.”  Her eyes narrowed.  Loghain lured me away so you could buy this didn't he?  You two conspired.  Ali's smug look answered her question.  The next thing he knew she'd thrown her arms around his neck.

"Thank you.  I'll wear it always.”  She let it dangle from her hand and saw the pendant.  Unsure of what it was at first she held it up.

"Ali, is it a laurel branch?”  He nodded.  "It's perfect, oh Ali it's perfect.”  She kissed his cheek.  "I love it.  Thank you so much.”  She slipped it over her head and grinned.  I'll think of you every day.  I'll never take it off."

"But," her face clouded, "I have nothing for you."

"Lys," he reminded her, "I have my cloak and my new life.  I'll think of you whenever I wear it and sit in my new room."

"Right," she smiled.  "I guess that will suffice.  For now anyway."

They settled on their blanket and looked up at the stars winking on.  She pointed, as a shooting star flew across the sky.

"I do this at home too," Lys said.  "From now on when I see a shooting star I'll think of you and know you're thinking of me."

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Loghain left with the King and Cailan the next morning, after wishing Alistair goodbye and promising to see him after Wintersend.  He had agreed to bring or send Lys' letters to Alistair in a packet with his own, believing even Isolde wouldn't withhold his letters from the boy.  He encouraged Alistair to write to Lys once he learned how.  He would make sure the letters reached her.  Surprising Alistair, he handed the boy a packet of quills, ink and parchment, a slate and chalk for practice and a coin pouch, heavy with coin.  "Remember," he reminded, "the chantry sister has instructions and the coin to get you anything you need for school.  You just need to ask.  He ruffled the boy's hair, squeezed his shoulder and was gone.

The Couslands supervised Alistair's move to the Armory and reconfirmed his new schedule, activities and responsibilities with the Guard Captain, Arms Master and Chantry Sister in the village.  The Couslands would leave the next morning after Alistair went to school.

Eleanor hugged him and said, "Lys will stay and help you unpack your things and then you must come back with her for dinner."

"Thank you, Teyrna Eleanor, "he murmured, barely keeping his tears at bay.

"Alistair, it will work out," she assured him hugging him more tightly.  "We'll see you next year and Lys will write to you.  Loghain will bring her letters.”  She stepped back then said, "Alistair, the chain and pendant was a lovely gift.  Lys loves it.  How you ever found the laurel pendant, well it was brilliant.  You're a fine boy, the best, just remember that.”  He glowed at her praise, literally, as the blush rushed into his cheeks.

Lys helped Alistair unpack.

"Ali, these figures are marvelous.  Where did you get them?"

"From the Arl.  He gives me one each Satinalia."

"You have a shelf.  Should we put them there?"

"I guess.  I suppose no one will see them and tease me."

"Tease you?"

"The bastard and his dolls."

"These aren't dolls!  The carving is beautiful.  Cailan has a few like these in his apartments.  I think his father gave them to him when he was little.  All figures from myths and stories.  He has one of Calenhad that's amazing, gleaming white armor and all."

"Cailan does?"

"Yes, maybe Arl Eamon got them from the same merchant as the King."

Alistair stared at his figures.  _Maybe, these were not from Arl Eamon.  Could they be from his father?_   He would probably never know, but it was a nice thought.

Lys held an amulet.  "What's this?  It looks old."

"It's an amulet with Andraste's holy symbol."

Rolling her eyes, Lys replied patiently, "Yes, that much is obvious.”  She waited for him to respond.

"It belonged to my mother."

"Oh, why don't you wear it?"

"Afraid, I'll lose it or break it.  The chain's worn.  Just put it on the shelf with the figures."

Lys inspected the amulet more closely.  There appeared to be engraving on one side, so worn it was barely readable.  An 'F' surely, but she could make out no more in the dim light of the room.  "What was your mother's name?"

"Tishia, I'm told.  Arl Eamon never said.  The cook told me.  She used to watch me when I was very small.  She said I favored her, blonde and all.  All but my eyes.  Her eyes were blue.  Why?"

Because there is engraving on the reverse side, but the first letter is an 'F'."

"Well, maybe it was in her family.  Maybe that's the name of her mother, or grandmother, or… whatever.  It doesn't matter," he finished annoyed.

"No, I guess not.  Curiosity."

Well, My Lady Curious, let's finish putting these things away.”  His attempt at humor diverted Lys back to the tasks.  He hoped she would drop it.  She could be annoyingly persistent and he did not want to discuss his parents.

When the Arms Master came by, they both eagerly accepted his offer of a tour.  By its conclusion, it was time for dinner and they returned to the Cousland apartments.  Bryce and Eleanor were again eating with the Arl and Arlessa, but Fergus joined them for dinner.  He kept Alistair amused with tales of Lys's adventures and Lys, of course, retaliated with tales about Fergus.  By meals end they were laughing and joking again.  Finally, Fergus said he should take Ali back to the Armory.  He turned to Lys, "Will you come?"

Lys looked at Ali and shook her head no.  "I think we should say farewell here."

She walked over to Alistair and hugged him, then kissed his cheek.  He hugged her back, as they both held back tears.  Neither spoke until he walked out the door with Fergus.  Lys ran to the hallway, "You'll do well, Ali.  You will.  Farewell 'til next year."

Ali turned and smiled sadly.  "Farewell, Lys."

**9:18 Dragon 2 Harvestmere === Gwaren House, Denerim**

"Father, why did you buy these dolls?

"They are not dolls, Anora, they are figurines."

"Yes, so Cailan tells me.  Are they for him?  If so, I think he has them already."

"No, I bought them for that young ward of Arl Eamon's I met at Funalis.  I'm sending them off to Redcliffe with the courier tomorrow."

"How…odd.  Why would you do that for some common bastard?”  Oh Maker, she thought, I used the 'common' word.  Now he'll be annoyed.

Loghain frowned at his daughter, but refrained from making any further comments.  She did not need to know about Alistair.  He gathered up the figurines, which he wanted to pack himself with the letters and went to his study.  Anora watched him go bemused.  Who was this boy that he cared so much?

Loghain carefully wrapped the figurines and letters from Lys and him.  The reports from the teaching Sister had been superlative.  Teyrn and Teyrna Cousland had asked the teaching Sister to provide monthly reports directly to Loghain.  Loghain had asked the Arms Master to visit the chantry sister once a month and tell her about Alistair's progress in the Armory and training.  The Arms Master's informal oral report would be included in the Sister's report each month.  She had no reason to send reports through the Arl and, thus, could provide an unfiltered view.  He did not trust Eamon to provide an accurate account of Alistair's progress.  Eamon's reports did not disappoint.  They continued to downplay Alistair's accomplishments.  It pleased Loghain that he could heap praise upon the boy in his letter based on the Sister's updates.

The plan appeared to work well.  Its success pleased Maric and probably assuaged his guilt.  Someday Alistair would be acknowledged, knighted and settled on land with a title.  This would work out well for everyone.

**9:18 Dragon 7 Firstfall === Castle Redcliffe**

Alistair sat on his bed, a bolster behind him as he leaned against the wall reading his latest assignment.  Although the wind blew fiercely off Lake Calenhad in Firstfall, he felt warm and cozy under several warm blankets.  The small brazier added just enough warmth to let him move around comfortably.  A small table next to the bed held a washbasin.  With a privy nearby, he had no need for a night soil bucket in his room.

Although small, the room in the armory provided more comforts than he had ever experienced.  The furnishings included a large chest for clothes storage; hooks on the wall for his cloak and quiver; an arms race, which held his practice sword; a shelf with his figurines; the bed; the nightstand and a small table and stool.  A smaller chest on the table held his parchment, quills, tips, ink, slate and chalk.  The short bow Loghain had left for him stood, unstrung, in the corner.  A room all his own, he thought.  He still expected the Arms Master to walk in and send him back to the stables, but it had been three months and he was still here.  He had not seen the Arlessa at all.  Arl Eamon had only visited once, expressing surprise at finding the room tidy and Alistair working on his letters for school the next day.

The teaching sister seemed surprised and pleased by his good behavior and diligence.  He moved through the lessons steadily, receiving almost daily praise.  The same proved true of his archery training.  He had progressed so well that the arms trainer had started him on basic sword forms after Satinalia.  He could not wait until he could write to Lys without help and tell her how wonderful it all was.

His small collection of figurines stood on the shelf, augmented by three new ones sent by Loghain at Satinalia.  Two notes accompanied the package, but he had been unable to read them, only making out a word here and there.  His teacher helped him with the words he did not yet know, praising him for understanding as much as he did.  The Couslands, Lys and Loghain all wished him a Joyous Satinalia and hoped he would add the Fereldan Soldier, Archer and Night Elf figures to his collection.  They had not forgotten him as he had expected.  He snuggled into the blankets and grinned to himself.  Maybe this would work out after all.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. If you have time, please review. Book 1 may be complete, but I'm working on Book 2.
> 
> After completing Brief Shining Moments, I re-read and edited the entire work. From Chapter 14 on I had the support of my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion which resulted in far fewer errors. Any remaining are mine alone. There may be a few tweaks to wording, but no content changes. 
> 
> I’ve received the support of many reviewers. Mike3207, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Caraine, clafoung, SnowHelm, katdancer2, dustywalker, Easternviolet, ElyssaCousland, Nymra, ChaoticHarmony1991, EveHawk, susyjohn, Judy, maradeux, DjinniGenie, Pollyanna24, Contess. Others have followed and favorited the story or posted kudos. Thanks to all of you.
> 
> I created some appendices with commissioned art, timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure.


	12. Missing Funalis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:19 Dragon 29 Solace === Castle Redcliffe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

  
“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 12:  MISSING FUNALIS**

* * *

**9:19 Dragon   29 Solace  ===  Castle Redcliffe**

Loghain arrived at Redcliffe with King Maric and Crown Prince Cailan feeling apprehensive.  He knew Alistair expected the Couslands to attend the Funalis Tourney and would be horribly disappointed to learn that they would not attend.  He had letters from Lys and from Teyrna Eleanor explaining their absence.  He hoped he could make it up to the boy, at least a little.  Truth be told, he would miss Lys as well.

During the past year, Loghain visited Alistair twice.  He accompanied King Maric, when the he paid his annual spring visit to Redcliffe in Drakonis and he visited a second time after spending Summerday at Highever.  He had been pleased to find Alistair doing well in all aspects of his new life.  His progress at school had amazed the Sister.  He had moved through several levels of reading and figures at a speed not seen before in the village Chantry school.  The Arms Master had been encouraged at how quickly he picked up both archery and basic blade work.  The boy had a quick mind, a sharp eye, an athlete's agility and strength, a hunger for knowledge and a desire for approval.  The combination drove him to work hard and persistently.  He seemed to enjoy being around the Guards.  He became a sort of mascot, who also worked diligently at his assigned chores in the Armory.  All in all, the plan he and Teyrn Bryce concocted had worked out.  Eamon tracked and reported his progress.  Isolde rarely saw him and had no opportunity for abuse.

Alistair began writing to both Loghain and Lys after Loghain's Bloomingtide visit.  His sentences were simple, but carefully written and correctly composed.  They reflected contentment with his new status and activities.  The Cousland's were thrilled to hear of his progress and saddened when they were unable to make the trip to Redcliffe in Solace.  In late Justinian, Fergus suffered a serious injury during a hunt, breaking his leg badly and suffering a concussion.  In spite of healing magic, he was still recovering and unable to travel, much less participate, as he'd hoped, in the Tourney.  Neither Eleanor nor Bryce wanted to leave him until he was fully healed.  Lys was despondent, according to Eleanor, but even she understood that Fergus needed them there with him.  They all sent their love to the boy and promised to write.

Loghain found himself in the same apartment as the previous year.  He had tried to convince Anora to join him this year, but she had declined when the Couslands cancelled their visit.  With Eleanor there, she told her father, the visit would be bearable, but with only Isolde…Anora liked the Arlessa as little as he did.  He pointed out that other noble wives and daughters would be there, only to receive a disparaging look from his daughter.

At seventeen, Anora had a mind of her own and the will to match it.

 _"Yes, Father, she had replied, the same ones I see at every event here in Denerim_."

Neither Eleanor Cousland or Delilah Howe would attend, she noted.  You, Cailan and King Maric are not going to drag me there and then abandon me to the same boring gossips I see every day here.  My time will be far better spent continuing my studies, my archery practice and my rides here in Denerim.  He had to admit her point, although he wondered at her new friendship with Delilah Howe, a girl five years her junior.  Had she not been betrothed to Cailan, he would suspect it an excuse to see Nathaniel, but that could not be the reason.

He surveyed the room, approving its austerity, and told his manservant to unpack.  While the unpacking occurred, he decided to go to the Armory to find Alistair.

As he walked past the archery butts, he saw a boy shooting.  The boy stood well back from the target for his height and slender build, using what would pass as a longbow for him.  Each new arrow clustered around his previous shots in the bull's eye.  He grinned, as he realized it was Alistair.  The boy had grown, even in the few months since Bloomingtide.  Loghain walked over and stood behind him, waiting until he had emptied his quiver.  Then he began to clap.  Alistair whirled around, annoyed at first, then Maric's smile spread across his face.

"Teyrn Loghain, Your Grace, you've arrived.  Welcome to Redcliffe."

"Fine shooting, Alistair.  You'd not know it's only been a year since you picked up a bow.  That's a powerful bow you have there and your distance from the butts is impressive."

"Thank you, Your Grace.  I try to practice regularly.  I just received this bow from the Arms Master.  It's a beauty, really."

Loghain inspected it.  "Elven I would think.  That's iron bark.  You're almost the height of a grown elf.  I imagine this is an elven longbow, recurved, as many of theirs are, for more power.  You say you just received it?"

"This morning.  I've been practicing with it since.  Lucky for me, you saw me now and not earlier," he grinned.

"I came looking for you.  I wondered if you would join me in my rooms for dinner.  I'll have to attend the banquets most nights this year.  King Maric wants to share the pain," he grumbled.  "He's ordered me not to beg off this time.  I do hope to skip the Invocation again.  I'd like to go riding with you if we can arrange that around you schooling and duties."

"I'll need to let the Arms Master know about dinner, but I don't see why he'd object.  My duties are done for the day.  And there is no school during the Fest and Tourney."

"Good.  I'll see you tonight.  Same rooms as last year.  I'll speak to the Arms Master about riding with me.  I'll expect you to join me for the Services tomorrow as well."

Surprised, Alistair replied, "of course, Your Grace.  As you wish."

Loghain hesitated.  "Did Teagan tell you the Couslands won't attend this year.?"

The boy blanched, "Yes.  He arrived yesterday.  He told me then."

"I have letters and packages for you.  From both Lys and Teyrna Eleanor.”  He handed them to Alistair.  "I thought you might want to read them by yourself.  I'll leave you to them.  I'll see you tonight.  Two marks before sundown."

Alistair took the letters.  "Thank you, Your Grace.  I will join you tonight."

Knowing that letters would have to suffice for another year, Alistair returned to his room and read the two from Highever.  Teyrna Eleanor's was kind and comforting.  She explained their dilemma, the need to stay with Fergus, but assured him Lys was brokenhearted and would miss her visit with him, as would all the Couslands.  She praised him for his work during the past year and hoped he would continue to amaze them with his progress.  She promised that, barring any other unforeseen event, they would all be together next Funalis.  He then opened the package and was surprised to find several sovereigns enclosed, along with a new Cousland cloak, minus the crest, but with the laurel garland, to replace the one he had outgrown.  He grinned.  He had missed the cloak once he outgrew it.

He opened the second package.  A short note said _Name Day Gift_.  He chuckled, knowing it must be from Lys.  A figurine fell into his hand.  It was the Grey Warden Garahel, the slayer of the Archdemon Andoral at the Battle of Ayesleigh.  Helmetless, Garahel's pointed ears were carefully carved.  He rubbed them, appreciating the fine detail.  He grinned, in spite of himself, got up and placed it on his shelf with his other figurines.

He finally opened the second letter.

_Dear Ali,_

_By now, you know I won't be attending the Tourney this year.  Fergus was badly injured and can't travel, so we all must stay home.  He will be fine.  His recovery is taking a long time, however, even with healing magic._

_I miss you._

_Loghain says you are doing well and that the Orlesian isn't bothering you.  That makes me happy.  I'm sorry you won't be able to spar with me and dump me on my ~~ars~~ rear in the Practice Yard.  (Hope you are smiling now.)  I'd rather you dump me, than not see you at all.  And I _hate _to be dumped.  You'll get your chance next year, I guess._

_Mum says we will attend Funalis next year.  I swear I will come even if Fergus breaks his other leg._

_I miss you._

_I'm feeling miserable, but I don't want to whinge in my letter to you.  I promise a long letter full of news soon, but I need to go do something now to stop feeling so sad.  I'm going to go riding to the cliffs and watch the sea.  Mum and Papa gave me a horse for my Name Day in Guardian.  I named him Hitch.  He's wonderful._

_I wish you a happy Name Day.  Loghain told me it was 28 Solace.  I hope you like your gift._

_Tonight I'll be on the northwest tower watching for falling stars and thinking of you.  In fact, I'll be doing that every night until the Tourney is over.  Well, really I do it all the time.  Both think of you and watch for falling stars._

_I wear my chain and laurel every day.  Remember me._

_Yours always, Lys_

Alistair sniffed.  He was too old to cry over a letter, he thought.  I miss you too, Lys.  And how in the Maker's Name could I forget you?  I should go see the Arms Master and let him know about dinner.  I can't sit here and mope.  He got up and headed to the Armory office.

**9:19 29 Solace === Castle Cousland**

"Fergus, may I ask you a question?”  Fergus was lying on his bed.  Lys was curled up next to him, holding the book she had been reading to him.  Fergus wasn't supposed to read too much because of his head injury.  He found Lys' reading comforting when he had to spend yet another day resting.

"You just did."

"Fergus!  I'm serious."

"This isn't about boys and kissing and stuff, is it? ‘  Cause if it is you should ask Mum."

She frowned "Well, it's about a boy, but not kissing."

"Ah, it's about Alistair, isn't it?"

"Why do I like him so much, Fergus?  It's almost as if he's a brother, but not exactly."

"Well, why do you like Pippa so much?  She's like a sister, right?"

"Yeesss, but I see her all the time, she's a Traveler too and I don't have a sister.  I already have a brother, who I love most of the time," she smirked at him.  "I've only seen Ali three times for a few weeks each time."

"Well, maybe it's because you get along so well.  You two hit it off right away.  I've never seen you get along with someone so quickly."

She smiled, remembering, "We did, didn't we?  I miss him Fergus.  And I worry about him.  I know Loghain says he's fine and that he checks on him, but the Orlesian is right there.  She could hurt him before anyone would ever know; she and that creepy Sister Eleutheria."

Fergus chuckled, "She'd be creepy without the Orlesian accent I think.”  They both laughed.

"So, do you know who Alistair's father is?"

"What?"

"He's a bastard right?  His mother worked at the castle, but no one says who his father is.  Only that it's not the Arl.  So, do you know?"

"I don't Lys."

"You've heard rumors though.  I know you have.  Who do you think it is?

Fergus looked at her.  "I take it you have a theory?"

"That's not an answer."

"I don't know Lys and I'm not going to speculate."

"You're best friends with his half-brother.  Does Cailan know?"

"What!"

"He looks just like King Maric.  He just has hazel eyes and his hair is darker.  He looks more like the King than Cailan does."

Fergus groaned.  Lys was too damned observant.  "No, Cailan hasn't said anything.  I don't think he's noticed.  I did.  But I won't say anything and you shouldn't either."

"I haven't," Lys protested, "except to my brother!  Not even to Mum and Papa.  Certainly not to Alistair."

"And Teyrn Loghain?"

"No, I almost did, but no."

"Well, don't.  Not to Loghain and not to Alistair.  It's not up to you to tell him.  If you need to know, Mum and Da will tell you.  I think they know.  That's why they worry so much about him.”  Fergus hesitated, then continued, "I think Da and Loghain went to the King last year.  That's how Loghain made the Arl agree to all the changes.  King Maric agreed first and told the Arl he had to follow what Da and Teyrn Loghain said."

He stopped again trying to decide what to tell Lys, then shaking his head, he added, "King Maric was really angry at the Arl last year.  He barely spoke to him during the Tourney.  And the Arl was furious with Isolde and downright obsequious with King Maric.  Remember I was in their box with Cailan.  Cailan didn't know why and didn't care really.  He's not that fond of Eamon or the Arlessa.

"King Maric also said to me that it would do Cailan good to spend time with you and Loghain.  I think it was a way to let Cailan and Alistair meet each other.  Lyssie, I'm trusting you not to repeat any of this!"

"Thank you for telling me, Ferg.  It does make sense doesn't it?  For Cailan to meet him?  If King Maric is behind the changes, Arl Eamon will have to obey, right?  Even Isolde.”  She relaxed back onto the bolster.  "I feel better about him, thanks for telling me."

**9:19 Dragon Funalis === Redcliffe**

Alistair dressed carefully the morning of Funalis.  Teyrn Loghain had requested Alistair meet him in the stables.  He told Alistair the two of them would ride to the Services together.  When Alistair appeared hesitant, Loghain assured him the King knew of and agreed with the plan.  Alistair sighed.  The past year had been uneventful.  He hoped appearing with Teyrn Loghain at the services wouldn't upset the equilibrium the Teyrns' plan had established.

"Good morning, Your Grace," Alistair greeted Teyrn Loghain.

"Good morning, Alistair.  You look quite handsome in your new cloak."

Alistair couldn't help but smile.  "I outgrew my old one," he said.  "It's good to have a new one and know the Teyrn and Teyrna are thinking of me.  Well, Lys and Fergus too, I hope."

"I don't think you have to worry there.  Lys thinks of you quite frequently, I believe.”  Alistair blushed slightly.

"I've saddled Marryn, Your Grace.  I think we are ready to depart."

The two mounted and rode down the mountain and into the village.  Securing the horses near the Chantry, they walked onto the Porch to wait for the arrival of the carriages.  Alistair stood behind Loghain when the King, Prince Cailan and the Arl and Arlessa arrived.  Loghain greeted King Maric, then the King and Cailan entered the Chantry.  Loghain followed with Alistair at his side.  As the Arl and Arlessa fell into place behind them, he heard the Arlessa asking Arl Eamon about the boy accompanying Teyrn Loghain.  The Arl muttered something about the Teyrn's page and told Isolde to be quiet.  Alistair couldn't help but grin to himself.

The service proved as lengthy as the one he had attended a year earlier.  He missed Lys.  When it ended, the nobles congregated on the Chantry porch waiting for their carriages.  Cailan surprised Alistair by turning to talk with him.

"Your Highness," Alistair bowed.

"Alistair, quite a long service.  You must miss the Couslands.  I know I miss Fergus."

"Yes, Your Highness, I do, but I've enjoyed the time I've spent with Teyrn Mac Tir.  It's nice to have a break from school and training."

Cailan smiled.  "I couldn't agree more.  Loghain tells me he plans to return, with you, for the bonfire and plays this evening.  Would you mind if I joined you?"

Alistair looked confused, "Your Highness, I wouldn't, but why would that matter?"

"Well, I sometimes take all the attention when I'm present.  Prince thing and all.  I wasn't sure if you would mind."

"I wouldn't.”  Alistair got a mischievous gleam in his eyes.  "Perhaps you should disguise yourself?"

"Disguise myself?  How could I do that?"

"Well, commoner's clothes, a cowl to cover your hair, a Guard's cloak perhaps?"

Cailan grinned.  "No wonder you and Lys get along.  You're as devious and clever as she is.  Can you get me the clothes?"

"I can.  Teyrn Loghain will have to know, of course."

"Yes and my Guard will follow, but I'll make sure it's at a distance.”  He grinned, "I like you Alistair.  We'll have a fine evening."

"What's this?  You're joining us this evening Prince Cailan?”  Loghain asked.

The fourteen-year-old prince grinned, "Yes, Alistair can fill you in on the plan.”  He glanced towards his father who was shifting from one foot to the other as the Arlessa spoke to him.  "I think Father is anxious to escape the Arlessa, so I better rejoin him.  Don't want him irritable do we, Loghain?”  He raised one eyebrow and walked off to join the King.

"Plan, Alistair?"

"Umm…afraid I'm to blame, Your Grace.  He won't be in danger or anything."

Alistair explained his plan to disguise the prince so they could attend the bonfire and Andraste play without undue fanfare.  He expected the teyrn to disapprove.  Teyrn Loghain laughed and told him it was a brilliant plan.  That it would do Cailan good to be incognito among his people.  He agreed Cailan's Guard should follow and promised he would speak with them while Alistair collected some simple clothes for Cailan to wear.

"Teyrn Loghain, does Cailan know?"

"I don't know Alistair.  I don't think so, but King Maric doesn't tell me everything.  I can assure you, though, that if King Maric didn't want Cailan to spend time with you, he'd make sure it didn't happen.  Don't worry.  Enjoy yourself tonight."

"I will," he replied.  When they returned he went to collect Cailan's attire for the evening, smiling to himself.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Cailan came to Loghain's rooms to change into the commoner's clothing Alistair provided.  "So, still working at the armory.  I enjoyed the tour we took on my last visit.  The Arl has some fine armaments."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, Your Highness.”  Alistair handed him the clothes.  "You can change in the bedroom.  I borrowed the clothes from a friend.  If you want to change the plan, of course, Your Highness, we can."

"No, no Alistair.  It's a good plan.  It will be fun.”  He called from the other room.  He emerged brushing the doublet.  "These fit quite well, actually.”  Cailan walked around in the borrowed boots.  "How do I look?"

Alistair grinned, "Like a commoner."

"Perfect.  Where is Loghain?"

"He was talking with His Majesty in the library when I last saw him."

"Good.  We can talk then…brother."

Alistair just stared at Cailan aghast.  "I'm not blind Alistair.  You look like Father.  You know we have the same Father, don't you?"

"Yes, Your Highness.”  Alistair whispered, waiting for Cailan to do his worst.

"You don't want me for a brother?"

"Of course, I do, Your Highness, but I'm no one.  A commoner.  A bastard."

"That, brother, sounds like Uncle Eamon talking.  You are my brother.  When we are together you will call me Cailan."

"Is that a royal command?"

Cailan laughed, "Absolutely.”  He handed Alistair a package.  "For your Name Day.  Sorry it's late."

Alistair took the small package.

"Open it!  Also a royal command, brother."

Alistair grinned and ripped the wrapping.

"Lys mentioned you had a shelf of figurines like I do.  I think father sent them, although Lys said they were from Uncle Eamon.  Probably he just lied and said they were from him.  Anyway, I don't think you have these."

Alistair's eyes widened as he saw the two figures, "King Maric and Teyrn Loghain," he marveled, "I don't have these."

"Good.  I thought you should."

"You…Cailan, thank you.  I'm glad you like figures too.  Lys told me you did.”  He hesitated.  "Would you like to see my room?  It's nothing special, but it's mine."

"I would.  Do we have time?"

"I think so.  You're wearing a guard's cape, so no one will notice.  I should leave a message for Teyrn Loghain though.”  He went to the table and wrote the note to Loghain.

"That's the difference between you and Lys, you know.  You both come up with brilliant plans, but she would be at your rooms by now.  You think it through.  That’s more like Fergus.  Certainly not like me."

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The two boys left by a side entrance and walked to the armory.

"You like living in the armory?"

"Yes, it's convenient."

"Living in the Armory, that's brilliant."

Alistair smiled as they walked into his small room.  "As I said, it's very small.

Cailan went straight to the shelf.  "You have some good ones.”  Looking more closely, he saw Garahel.  "You have a Grey Warden.  Is that Garahel?  Wonderful.  I shall have to ask father to get that one for me.  I'll have to get you Calenhad and Queen Moira.  You should have all the family figures."

"Family?"

"Of course.  You're as much a Theirin as I am.”  He saw the confusion and hurt in Alistair's eyes, before the boy masked it with a smile.  "Alistair, you are.  I don't know why Father leaves you here, but I intend to find out.  I'd like a brother, it can be lonely at the palace you know."

"I hadn't thought about it.  I always see you with Fergus and Nate."

"They're good friends, but they don't live in Denerim.  I only see them at Tourneys or Fest Days."

Alistair frowned, realizing Cailan's perfect life might have drawbacks too.  "We should get back to the Teyrn."

"I suppose.”  He looked around again.  "Your room is nice.  Very neat.  Like an officers room in the barracks.  You'll be a fine knight one day.”  Cailan started out the door and turned, "Would you spar with me tomorrow?"

"If you want me to, Yo...Cailan.  I'm not very good yet."

"Then you'll learn.  I'll arrange it.”  He grinned.  "You know, calling me Cailan is fine, but Yo Cailan , that's a bit familiar.'

Alistair turned bright red.  "I didn't…I mean.”  He rolled his eyes, realizing Cailan was teasing.  "Do you and King Maric blush too?"

Cailan burst out laughing.  "We do, but not as badly as you do.  I guess we've learned to control it."

"Can you teach me?”  Alistair almost begged.

"I'll try.  Come on, brother," he whispered.  "Let's go find Loghain and see the play."

Cailan and Alistair spent more time together during the Funalis Tourney visit.  They sparred a few times.  Cailan used a broadsword.  Sparring with him taught Alistair new skills.  Alistair even accompanied Cailan, after Funalis, on a visit to a Rainesfere farmhold and orchard.

Cailan did not write nor did he visit Redcliffe again when his father came in Drakonis of 9:20 Dragon.  Alistair never asked Teyrn Loghain why.  However, at Satinalia, Cailan proved as good as his word, and a Queen Moira figurine came for Alistair.  Eamon again claimed the figurine was from him, but Alistair now knew for certain, they came from his father.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. If you have time, please review. Book 1 may be complete, but I'm working on Book 2.
> 
> After completing Brief Shining Moments, I re-read and edited the entire work. From Chapter 14 on I had the support of my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion which resulted in far fewer errors. Any remaining are mine alone. There may be a few tweaks to wording, but no content changes. 
> 
> I’ve received the support of many reviewers. Mike3207, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Caraine, clafoung, SnowHelm, katdancer2, dustywalker, Easternviolet, ElyssaCousland, Nymra, ChaoticHarmony1991, EveHawk, susyjohn, Judy, maradeux, DjinniGenie, Pollyanna24, Contess. Others have followed and favorited the story or posted kudos. Thanks to all of you.
> 
> I created some appendices with commissioned art, timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure.


	13. The Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:20 Dragon 27 Cloudreach === Highever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 13: THE WOLF**

* * *

**9:20 Dragon  27 Cloudreach  ===  Highever**

As Cloudreach slipped into Bloomingtide, spring clung to the cusp of summer.  This was Lys' favorite time of the year.  Summer in Highever meant blue skies, warming seas, sailing, riding and visits from friends.  New colts frolicked in pastures, crops sprouted in the fields and shorn sheep grazed the hillsides.  Most importantly the Summer Solstice, the Annum between Cloudreach and Bloomingtide, heralded the annual Highever Summerday Tourney. 

Lys lay on her stomach looking out over the Waking Sea, her horse Hitch [1][4], a Nevarran jennet, grazing nearby.  It was late in the day.  In the distance, she could make out the sails of two vessels, one a two master the other a single.  Neither, she decided, was making for Higheverport.  The wind blew off the Sea from the Northwest, promising continuing good weather.  It was stiff enough to be a good sailing day, but not so strong as to warrant concern.  Fergus and several friends had taken the Cousland's small boat, The Guillemot, to the nearby islands earlier.

That morning, she had visited her friend Philippa, the Arl of Higheverport's daughter.  Outwardly as different as possible in looks and personality, Philippa and Lys defied expectations and were fast friends.  Philippa, called Pippa, a year older than Lys, was fair haired and petite, where Lys was dark haired and tall.  Philippa was reserved and thoughtful where Lys was gregarious and impulsive.  Philippa excelled in maidenly accomplishments and virtues, where Lys pursued arms training and athletic activities.  Where Philippa would dress her dolls for balls and lawn parties, Lys would engage them in battle.

Their interests converged in other areas.  Both were serious students of history and Thedosian myths and stories.  Philippa and Lys could spend hours devising and debating alternate versions of myths, bardic tales, or actual history.  Making up stories of their own and acting them out was even more fun.  Both loved to ride and spent hours on the horseback.  Both were fine archers, although Pippa preferred shooting at targets, while Lys enjoyed the hunt.  Both found the study of plants and herbs fascinating for their use in dying and creating healing potions and poultices.  Healer Mage Nyla considered both apt pupils and spent time teaching them.

Working with the guilds and merchants of Higheverport fascinated them both the most, in part because it included working with their mothers.  Both loved fashion, weaving and spinning, although Philippa carried that through to needle crafts and sewing.  Lys found needlecrafts less appealing.  Because she appreciated fine arms and armor, Lys’ love of fine textiles and clothing surprised acquaintances.  Spring and summer brought busy times for their mothers, the guilds, the artisans and the merchants, as fleeces piled up, ready for spinning.

Highever’s shepherds produced quantities of wool each spring.  With the Teyrna and Arlessa’s support, Highever’s artisans spun, dyed, and wove those most of those fleeces in Highever's own spinneries, dye yards, and weaving workshops.  Fewer raw fleeces found their way on to ships in Higheverport’s harbor each year.  The design and manufacture of fine wool cloth had become a booming industry for Highever, with exports to Nevarra, The Marches, and Antiva.  There was even demand in Orlais, but the Couslands chose not to trade there, at least directly.  Today, however, even the guilds prepared for Higheverport’s famous Summerday Fair.

Typically, friends arrived early for the Summerday Tourney and Fair to enjoy the warmer, sunnier, altogether more pleasant Coastlands summer weather.  This year was no exception.  Summerday in 9:20 Dragon promised to be the best in Lys' young life.  This year Loghain was bringing Alistair, because this year King Maric and Cailan were unable to attend.  She had not seen Alistair for almost two years, although they had written.  Pippa had begun to tease her when she said, yet again, that she could not wait.

"He's almost ten.  I wonder if he'll even want to spend time with me.  Maybe he'll think I'm just a silly girl."

Philippa scoffed, "A silly girl who can probably knock him on his rear if you spar with him."

Lys giggled, "He told me he would knock me on mine.  He's been training with both sword and shield and with bow.  Maybe he'll be better than I am.  I hope so."

"Lys Cousland hoping to be bettered by an opponent.  I want to be there to see that.  You won't just let him win will you?"

"No, 'course not.  He'll have to beat me.  I just hope he does."

"Next thing you know, your Da will be announcing the betrothal," Philippa teased.  A strange look flashed across her friends face.  Sadness, resignation, anger, Philippa wasn't sure what she saw as Lys' expression changed so quickly.

"He's a bastard, Pippa.  There will be no betrothal.  We're lucky our friendship is tolerated."

"But, Lys, he's coming with Teyrn Mac Tir.  He must be somebody important's son."

"He is.  But he's unacknowledged and will probably remain so.  He's a friend, nothing more."

"You know who he is?"

"No."

"Lys, you just said…."

"I know who I _think_ he is.  And no, I won't say, even to you.  I won't even ask my parents, although I believe they know too.”  Lys bit her lip.  She picked up her riding gloves, "Let's go.  Hitch gets restless.  She's needs a long ride."

Pippa sighed and readied herself to go along.  When that determined looked crossed her friend's face, she knew further pressure would yield nothing but bad temper.

Lys and Philippa both wore leather riding breeches, light woolen stockings, boots, linen under tunics and fine Highever woolen over tunics.  Both had their hair pulled back and tied with a braided length of leather and ribbon.  Lys' colors were a soft Cousland grey blue and mossy green, which brought out her green eyes.  Philippa preferred a brighter green interlaced with a powder blue, which contrasted with her blue eyes and stood out against her dark blond hair.  Woven scarves in the same colors gently wrapped around their necks promising to fly behind them once they began racing across the downs.  Antivan leather gloves completed the outfits.  Well, except for the daggers.  Both had utility daggers at their waists to cut herbs and plants.  Lys also had one in each boot, as well as, several throwing daggers on her belt.  Fergus always teased her about being armed like a bandit.  Both had bows and quivers secured to their saddles

"Let's ride along the edge of the forest to the lake, and then we can run back across the open fields.  We should find plenty of elfroot for Nyla at the forest edge.  She needs to make more healing potions for the Tourney."

"To the lake?  So you want to take a swim?"

"Of course not.  We're not supposed to unless we're accompanied by our adults, right?”  Lys turned a purposefully innocent gaze at Philippa who snorted in a surprisingly unladylike fashion.

"Right and the ever obedient Lady Cousland would never disobey."

Lys successfully looked offended, "Never," she agreed.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The two girls left the Keep's Gate and rode out of the city towards the west and the forest's edge.  Open land rolled up from the coastal cliffs and into the forest carpeting the foothills of the Coast Range of mountains.  Not as high as the Frostbacks, the Coast Range was, nevertheless, a barrier to The Bannorn beyond.  Numerous passes allowed travel between The Coastlands and The Bannorn, but like the expanse between bridges on a river, the places between passes discouraged passage.  The roads across the Coast range connected The North Road and the Coast Road, which both ran east and west.  The North Road tracked along the foothills south of the Coast Range.  The less traveled Coast Road meandered along the sea cliffs, intersecting the forest edge when it ran down to the sea.

Lys and Pippa exited the Arl's Keep situated on the West side of Higheverport abutting the town wall.  They followed the Coast Road out of Higheverport's main gate and rode past the entrance to Castle Cousland.  Just beyond the Castle, they turned south to ride along the forest's edge.  Walking their horses, the girls stopped at each growth of elfroot.  They carefully picked only a portion of the plants, leaving enough to ensure the clump would regrow and continue to provide this key ingredient to all healing potions and poultices.  Under Nyla's tutelage, both girls were becoming talented herbalists.  Any other useful plants were also gathered, always leaving a few to enable regrowth.

After filling their sacks, Lys suggested they run their somewhat restive horses to the lake.  Philippa agreed and they took off, at a fast-paced amble across the rolling terrain until they reached a beach on the northern shores of a large lake.  Star Lake, a mile across at its widest, extended south west for over three miles across the downs and into the forest.  It's northern end flowed into a small river which emptied into the Waking Sea several miles to the north.

"We should eat here," Philippa suggested.  "I'm hungry and we can let Hitch and Loryn graze."

"Fine with me," replied Lys.  "I'm really not swimming today, though, so if you want to go on we can."

Philippa regarded her with skepticism.  "Why?"

Lys breathed deeply, gathering her patience and responded calmly, "Because I don't want to be in trouble during Summerday and the Tourney."

Surprise coloring her response, Philippa said, "That's different.”  She smirked, "Lys Cousland exercising thoughtful restraint."

"Funny, Pippa.”  Lys retorted.  "Isn't that part of growing up?  Learning when not to be stupid.  Yes, I would love to swim, but not if I'll be kept under Freya's rule during the entire Tourney.  Self-discipline is important, and not just for arms training.”  Her look challenged Philippa to dispute her.

"Fine, fine," Philippa responded, laughing.  "It's a first, but I agree.  Tell me though, if it was after the Tourney would you…?"

"Well, of course.  I'd have nothing to lose, but a few days of Freya's frowning.”  Lys giggled.  "I never intend to grow up that much!"

"That's a relief," Philippa sighed mollified.  She continued, teasing, "I'd thought perhaps you'd been possessed by some obedience demon and I'd lost my friend."

"Demon possession.  That's not even funny, Pippa.  Although, I think demons only possess mages.”  Lys responded trying to contain her grin.

"You know, I think I'll just take off my boots and wade."  Pippa sat on the grass to remove her boots.”

"What!"

"Not swimming, no clothes removed, just boots and stockings."

"Cruel, Pippa, but sounds good.  Guess that would be alright.”  She looked at her friend, who had a prankish streak few knew about.  "On second thought, no.  You'll just push me in and then I'll be wet, not get to swim and still get in trouble."

Philippa feigned innocence.  "Me, Philippa the Good, I'd never do that to my best friend, my sister."

"Right," Lys grumbled.  "I'm just glad Fergus isn't here.  He'd just go along and carry me into the water boots and all."

"Well, I'd confess," Philippa assured her.  "I'd never let you get punished for something you didn't do."

"Right, well I'll stick to the no swimming, wading, or anything else near the water.  I'm going over there by the tree to eat.  You can join me if you want."

Philippa pulled off her boots and stockings and waded along the edge of the lake.  Lys ignoring her, sat by the tree looking in the other direction.  She opened their food sack and started munching on some bread and cheese.  She pulled out her journal and began recording her thoughts.  Her strung bow and quiver lay on the ground next to her.  Suddenly, Philippa screamed.  Looking up she saw a scrawny, young wolf standing on the edge of the forest observing the scene.

"Pippa, swim out a ways.  Pippa, do it NOW," Lys commanded.  "She grabbed her bow and swung up to the lowest branch of the tree.  It extended out several feet and then curved upward, so it afforded her clear shots should the wolf try to cross the space between forest and lake.  Hitch and Loryn were untethered and could run off to safety.  She looked toward Philippa, who had done as Lys directed.

"Now, swim toward the rocks," Lys directed.  "You can climb up from the water.  The landside is sheer.  I don't think the wolf can climb it.  You should be safe there.”  Philippa started swimming.  The wolf watched the two horses, the girl in the water and the noisy one by in tree unsure which would be the easier prey.  Finally, it loped toward the water as the horses moved away.

Lys knew she could shoot from horseback.  It was a skill she'd been practicing, first from a standing horse, then from Hitch at a walk.  Shooting astride the tree branch should be no different from shooting astride a standing Hitch.  She wrapped her legs around the branch, held on with her knees, nocked an arrow, raised her bow, sighted, and loosed.  Not watching the effect of her shot, she quickly nocked another arrow and raised her bow again.  The first arrow caught the wolf in its side, penetrating deeply and possibly puncturing a lung.  The wolf stumbled, righted itself, and turned toward the greater threat in the tree.  Lys sighted and shot, aiming for the chest.  The arrow missed the heart, but went deep into the shoulder, halting the wolf for a moment.  Nocking, aiming, and shooting again, she brought the wolf down with a shot to the heart.  Unsure, Lys shot once more, again aiming for the chest and succeeding.  She waited, expecting the wolf to move.  When it didn't she dropped out of the tree, leaving her bow and grabbing the dagger from her waist.

As Lys moved toward the wolf, several Dalish hunters rushed out of the forest.  Lys stopped and surveyed the group.  Her friend Sarien was not among them, but she recognized the hunter, Fenriel.

" _Aneth ara, Fenriel_.”  Lys greeted the Dalish.

" _Aneth ara, lethallan_.”  The chief hunter, Fenriel replied.  He looked at the wolf.  "This is your work, Melys?" he queried.

"Mine, yes."

The Hunters looked at each other.  "We were tracking this wolf," one said.  "It was alone and threatening our young ones if they strayed too far from camp.  And circling the Halla pens as well."

" _Ma Falon_ , Pippa," she gestured to Philippa who had just walked up to stand beside her, "was wading.  The wolf, _fen_ , seemed ready to attack her.  So I told her to swim out and go to the rocks, while I tried to stop the _fen_."

Fenriel smiled, "It seems your plan worked perfectly, Melys.  You shot from the tree?"

"It seemed wiser.  Attacking me there would prove more difficult.  I … well I've practiced shooting from my horse, Hitch.  Shooting from the branch required a similar position."

Fenriel raised his eyebrows.  _Shooting from a horse?  This was a new concept_.  He knew the Orlesian's fought with melee weapons from horseback at times, but just as often, they dismounted once they engaged.  He had never heard of them shooting arrows from horseback.  "From horseback?  How did that occur to you?"

Lys couldn't tell him, of course, that it was a skill practiced long ago in parts of Areth.  She used her standard deflecting tactic, "I'm not sure really.  It just popped into my head one day, as I rode carrying my bow.  Maybe I heard it in Higheverport.  There are so many sailors from all over Thedas there."

The Dalish hunters were looking over the wolf.  "You took the _fen_ down in three shots, I think, lethallan.  The fourth shot was unnecessary."

"I was here alone," she replied.  "Pippa's bow was on her horse and beyond her reach.  I did not want to approach the wolf, even with my _dar misu_ , and find it still alive.  So I think the fourth shot was necessary, insuring a dead wolf."

"The hunter frowned, "Yes, I see that might be necessary for a lone hunter of few years."

Fenriel looked at the young girl.  "You've achieved a kill, which would make a hunter apprentice proud.  If you were Dalish, you would receive your vallaslin at a very young age."

Lys blushed, " _Ma Serannas_ , Fenriel. That is high praise.”  She continued, "I didn't know the Rasiae clan was here.  It seems late for you to still be in the north."

"It is indeed, lethallan.  Our usual place in the Brecilian Forest was … disturbed, this year.  It happens occasionally.  The Brecilian is a place of spirits, of _Setheneran_ at times.  When it becomes too strong, we avoid it for a season or two, until it returns being a place of _Reth_ , of peace and safety, and not of _Abelas_ , of sorrow.  The banns of your Bannorn do not always welcome us, so we thought to stay in the Coastlands where our welcome is assured."

Lys smiled as he interspersed Dalish with his Fereldan.  She understood the language better than she spoke it.  Every visit, her spoken Dalish would improve, but disuse during the rest of the year would cause her to lose it again.

"So, Sarien is here?"

"Yes, _Lethallan_.  I will tell her of your achievement today.  She will be proud of her friend.  She will contact you once the Keeper frees her from her duties."

"Please give Keeper Lillia my greetings, Fenriel.  And First Vanidin as well."

"I will Lys.  Would you like us to help you prepare the _Fen_ to carry home on your horse?"

"I would appreciate that, yes."

"Come, you may watch and help.  Every hunter should know how to prepare the kill."

Lys stole a glance at Philippa, who looked horrified.  "Don't worry, Pippa, you don't have to watch.  Why don't you pack up our things and lie in the sun to dry off," she suggested.  Philippa nodded agreement, as she watched Lys join the Dalish.

The ease with which the Dalish accepted Lys still surprised Pippa.  She knew Lys had a Dalish friend.  She had met Sarien at the Castle in the past, although, they'd never warmed to each other.  To see Lys with the Dalish hunters, almost treated as one of them was still surprising.  She knew the story Lys told, but often wondered if there was more to it.  The Rasiae Clan began to winter in the Highever forest shortly after the Rebellion.  Teyrn Bryce agreed to their stay and allowed them to hunt the Highever forests.  The Teyrn visited the Rasiae Clan each year to reaffirm their agreement.  Lys joined him for this ceremony when she turned eight and met the Clan, its Keeper, and its First.

The next spring, Lys found Sarien, unconscious, with a badly broken leg some distance from the Clan's camp.  Lys managed to splint the leg, rendering it immobile, and rig a travois.  She planned to lift the end, which usually dragged on the ground, making it into a crude stretcher to get Sarien back to the camp.  She gave Sarien some elfroot to chew and put an elfroot poultice on her leg before she splinted it.  She amazed the elves as she entered the Dalish camp behind a gently walking Hitch with Sarien on the travois.

Lys explained that she feared leaving the young elf alone as evening approached and predators began their search for food.  She decided to do what she could to immobilize the leg, ease her pain, and get her back to the Dalish camp.  Sarien's parents, the Keeper and the First showered Lys with praise.  That a young shemlen could show such presence of mind surprised and pleased them.  They invited her to spend the night, sending a messenger to the Castle to reassure her parents.

The next morning the Teyrn, himself, came to escort his daughter home, unsure if he had understood exactly what Lys had done.  Lys took it all in stride.  She assured the Keeper that she studied herbs, potions, poultices, and healing with their healer.  Her common sense, some Arethian knowledge of history and Hitch's good nature helped her devise the ingenious stretcher made from saplings, rope and vine lashing, and a wool blanket.

From that day forward, the Dalish Rasiae Clan welcomed Lys as an honorary daughter.  She and Sarien, two years her senior, became fast friends, hunting together as often as they could.  Lys' bow skills benefitted from her Dalish instructors.  Eventually, she became an honorary clan member and was offered a vallaslin.  It was not to be a formal vallaslin, but a tattoo of her own design representing her life in two worlds.  The right side represented Thedas and Ferelden.  The left side her ties to Areth.

She kept her times with the Rasiae separate from the rest of her life.  Pippa met Sarien briefly on two occasions when Sarien visited Castle Cousland.  Lys made her visits to the Clan on her own, sometimes disappearing for several weeks.  Pippa thought it odd, but accepted her friend's choice.  As she could see today, the Rasiae considered her a part of their Clan.

Pippa headed off to gather their packs and collect their horses.  She watched Lys helping to field dress the wolf from afar.  She wondered if Hitch would even carry the dead wolf.

* * *

[1] [4]Jennet:  The Jennet was a smooth-gaited type of horse popular in the Middle Ages, known for their presence, style and smooth ride. It was often ridden by European nobility. A small Spanish breed with Arabian blood, the Jennet had an ambling gait. The term amble or ambling is used to describe a number of four-beat intermediate gaits of horses. All are faster than a walk but usually slower than a canter or gallop. They are smoother for a rider than either the two-beat trot or pace and most can be sustained for relatively long periods of time. (Wikipedia)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. If you have time, please review. Book 1 may be complete, but I'm working on Book 2.
> 
> After completing Brief Shining Moments, I re-read and edited the entire work. From Chapter 14 on I had the support of my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion which resulted in far fewer errors. Any remaining are mine alone. There may be a few tweaks to wording, but no content changes. 
> 
> I’ve received the support of many reviewers. Mike3207, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Caraine, clafoung, SnowHelm, katdancer2, dustywalker, Easternviolet, ElyssaCousland, Nymra, ChaoticHarmony1991, EveHawk, susyjohn, Judy, maradeux, DjinniGenie, Pollyanna24, Contess. Others have followed and favorited the story or posted kudos. Thanks to all of you.
> 
> I created some appendices with commissioned art, timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure.


	14. The Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:20 Dragon 27 Cloudreach === Highever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

 “Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe 

**Chapter 14– THE ARRIVAL**

* * *

**9:20 Dragon 27 Cloudreach === Highever**

Philippa need not have worried about Hitch carrying the wolf.  As a hunter, Lys had ensured he could carry game.  Although the wolf was far larger than the usual rabbits, ducks, or other game she caught, it was not a large wolf.  The Dalish had secured it behind Lys' saddle.  Though they rode at a quick pace, Hitch handled the additional weight with ease.  As they rode into Castle Cousland's outer bailey, both girls enjoyed the guards' shocked expressions.  Lys asked a guard if he had seen Fergus.

"In the Practice Yard, I believe, My Lady."

Lys gave Philippa a mischievous glance, as she nudged Hitch into a walk.  "Let's go find him."

The two girls rode to the enclosure around the Practice Yard where Fergus, an aspiring tournament participant, was sparring.  Much to Lys' delight, her father was there as well, along with several others.  Had Summerday visitors arrived so soon?  The girls halted their mounts and sat watching.

Eventually, two of the men turned around.  _Andraste's Ashes it's Arl Howe._   Then she recognized the others with him.

Lys' scowl turned to a grin.  "Hello, Your Grace, My Lord Howe, Nathaniel, Alistair, Papa," she spoke loudly enough to get their attention.  Her Father frowned and Teyrn Loghain raised an eyebrow; both knew that Lys' huge grins usually heralded some stunt.  Fergus also heard his sister's tone and stopped sparring.

"We had an adventure today.”  She turned Hitch so they all could see the wolf.  "We had a small problem with a lone wolf.  I'm afraid I had to kill it."

Fergus was the first to react.  "Good for you, Lys!"

Nathaniel knew Lys' skill with a bow.  "Brilliant.  How did you get it on your horse?"

Teyrn Loghain and her father had moved over to inspect the wolf, noting the wounds and the bundle of arrows, retrieved from them, with recognizable Cousland fletching.

"Some Dalish hunters were tracking it, but they arrived after I made the kill.  They helped me field dress it and secure it to Hitch."

Arl Howe scoffed, "Dalish, unlikely story.  Why would Dalish help you?  More likely they'd carry you and the wolf back to their camp."

Lys glared at him, but held her tongue and let her father answer.

"Rendon, I allow a Dalish clan to camp in the Highever forest every year. And Lys visits them.  They would not harm her or Philippa.  Lys, was it the Rasiae clan?  It is late for them to remain in the North."

"Yes, Papa, it was.  There is some disturbance in the Brecilian and they chose to remain here for the summer."

Loghain finally spoke, "There are four wounds.  How did you get off four shots?"

Lys smirked, "From a tree.  I've been practicing shooting from horseback.  Fortunately, I was sitting under a large tree when I saw the wolf.  I climbed up to a low branch and shot from there, just as I would from Hitch.  Philippa, who was wading in the lake, was its target, but she swam away from shore.  When I shot the wolf, it turned towards me.  I had time to get off two more shots, which brought it down.  I loosed the fourth before I approached it; just to be safe.”  She looked at her father.  "I think I'll have a new cloak this winter with a wolf fur hood."

Fergus and Nathaniel began laughing and Bryce joined in.

"Are you sure this isn't a diversion to cover the fact that you went swimming?”  Fergus managed to get out between laughs.

"I did not swim.  In fact, if I had or had even gone wading, we'd be dead or injured.  I’m not sure the Rasiae would have arrived in time to save both of us."

“I thought you said elves tracked this wolf.”  Arl Howe wasn't convinced.  "Perhaps they killed the wolf then allowed you to take it and perform this ridiculous act for us.”

Loghain, tired of Howe's disparaging remarks, turned to him angrily.  "Have you seen Lys shoot?  I have.  I have no doubt she killed this wolf.  I suggest you keep your vitriol to yourself, Howe.  No one here cares to hear it."

Teyrn Bryce, feeling Loghain had adequately expressed everyone’s thoughts, withheld further comment to his surly vassal.

Howe flushed in anger, but refrained from responding to the Teyrn.  He strode toward the castle, snapping at Nathaniel to come along.  Nathaniel, at fourteen, was aware of the dislike emanating from Loghain.  He shrugged unhappily, turned, and followed his father, while the others looked on in disgust.

"How you tolerate him is beyond me, Bryce," Loghain said quietly.

Bryce was terse.  "He's a vassal, a powerful one, and a companion from the Rebellion.  I do what I must."

They all turned back to Lys.

Fergus stood beside Hitch, as Lys dismounted.  "Here, let me take him and get some help removing your kill.  You stay here and greet our guests.”  He smirked as he led Hitch and Loryn away.

Philippa looked towards Alistair as she whispered to Lys, "Is that him?  He is handsome, if a bit shy and solemn."

Alistair had remained in the background during the exchange with Howe.

Lys first greeted Teyrn Loghain with a hug, then walked over to him, "Welcome to Highever and Castle Cousland, Alistair," she greeted him formally.

"It's good to be here, My Lady," He bowed formally.  "Congratulations on your kill."

Lys lost her formality.  "Oh, Ali, it's so good to see you.  And you're taller than me!”  She stepped forward and enveloped him in a huge hug.  It took a moment for him to respond, but his arms went around her.

_The visit will be fine.  She really is happy to see me._

Loghain, Bryce, and Philippa watched Alistair's expression as it changed from serious, to incredulous, to joyous, and they began to laugh.

Loghain murmured to Bryce "I think he forgot how overwhelming she can be.”  _I'm glad Howe isn't witnessing this.  That bastard seems to dislike Lys.  We don't need him asking questions about Alistair._   Again, he wondered if bringing Alistair along had been a good idea.  Even without King Maric and Cailan here, Highever knew a Theirin when they saw one and, as he grew, his parentage became even clearer.

Lys took Alistair by the hand, leading him back to the group.  "Ali, this is my friend, Philippa.  Pippa, this is Alistair."

Philippa smiled at the uncomfortable boy and extended her hand.  "Hello, Alistair, it's so good to meet you, finally.  Lys speaks of you often."

Alistair grasped her hand, gave it a brief shake, then dropped it, and bowed slightly, "A pleasure to meet you as well Lady Philippa."

Bryce regarded the three young people.  "Lys, why don't you and Alistair escort Pippa home.  It's getting late.  You should be there to explain your adventure to Arlessa Alys, I think.  Tell Arlessa Alys and Arl Philip that I'll answer any questions they have tonight at dinner.”  He and Loghain left them to walk to the Bann's Keep.

"Lys, are you sure you want me along?”  Alistair asked.

"Of course!  We're friends, please don't feel awkward."

Philippa took Alistair's hand.  "Lys has been insufferably impatient for weeks, since she found out Teyrn Mac Tir was bringing you.  She's going to drag you all over the Coastlands and show you every favorite spot.  You'll be exhausted.  She'll be the happiest she's been in two years.  And I suspect you will be too.  Don't for a moment think she doesn't want you here!"

Lys was blushing furiously at this point, almost as badly as Alistair.  Philippa was smug.  "And my work is here done.  Now walk me home.”  She sounded more like her friend than herself.  Pippa strode off , leading Loryn, and leaving Lys and Alistair to meekly follow.

"Usually she's not so bossy," Lys whispered to Alistair loud enough for Pippa to hear.

Pippa giggled.  "I had a good teacher."

Alistair kept a straight face.  "I wonder who that could have been.  Certainly not My Lady of Gentility."

Pippa grinned.  "I like you already, Alistair.  Lys needs someone who can hold their own around her.  I usually don't."

Lys frowned at her friends, as Pippa chatted to Alistair during the rest of the walk to the Arl of Higheverport’s Keep.  Once there, Lys retold the Tale of the Wolf, as she now thought of it, to Alistair and Arlessa Alys.  Arlessa Alys, used to Lys' adventurous nature and thankful for her skill with a bow, ushered her daughter away to get ready for dinner at the Castle.  Lys and Alistair returned to the Castle Cousland.

Lys chattered happily, if nervously on their way home.  Alistair responded quietly, offering few words in answer to her questions.  As they approached the Castle, she stopped.  "You know, if you would rather, I'm sure Fergus would let you join him and Nathaniel.  You don't have to spend your time with me.  I know it's been two years.  You're not a little boy anymore.  You don't need to spend your time with a silly girl.  You can still ride with me, when I go with Loghain, but you can spend the rest of your time with the boys."

For a moment, Alistair looked like the awkward young boy she remembered, scuffing one boot in the dust of the road.  "I don't want to spend the time with Fergus, Lys.”  He struggled to put his feelings into words.  "I don't think you are silly.  Fergus didn't kill a wolf today.  Or defend me.  Or welcome me with a hug.”  _I am an idiot.  Now she thinks I don't like her and she's upset.  I want her to be happy I'm here.  Idiot._

Lys almost smiled.  "Yeah, that…the wolf, well that was Cousland luck.”  She saw his questioning look.  "Luck and the skill to know what to do with it.  Meaning I kept my bow with me because we were out alone and a Cousland never wanders the fields or forests unarmed.  And skill in that I know how to shoot from horseback – from a sitting position that is.  Luck was the tree branch and that Philippa could swim out of reach."

"Well, will Cousland luck and skill let you knock me on my bottom if we spar tomorrow?  I think I'll lose an archery contest, but I still have hopes with my sword and shield.  I seem to recall a challenge….”  Lys was smiling for real now.  _Success, at least I made her smile_.

"We'll see."

He held out his hand, and Lys looked at him quizzically.  "I like having you for a friend.  It's nice to be hugged sometimes and to hold someone's hand.  I only get hugs when I'm with you and your mum."

She grabbed his hand in hers and they continued walking.  "But I embarrassed you when I hugged you earlier."

"A little, although it was more surprise, but it was just your Da, Teyrn Loghain, Philippa, and Fergus.  I'd forgotten how, well how, impulsive and enthusiastic you can be.  I like it.  I just need to get used to it again."

"Loghain doesn't hug you?"

"Not exactly.  He puts his arm around my shoulders, ruffles my hair, pats me on the back…guy stuff.  Showing enthusiasm isn't something he does."

Lys laughed, "Enthusiasm, no, you're right.  Alistair, do you know how many people Loghain ever touches?  Anora, maybe Cailan, me and you.  You're special to him too."

Alistair blushed.

"So you don't think I'm a silly girl."

"Oh, I do.”  Alistair grinned as Lys bristled.  "A silly girl who can kill wolves, shoot arrows from horseback – speaking of brilliant and silly where did you even get that idea – and who will probably knock me on my arse tomorrow.  Yes, most definitely a very silly girl.  Now, My Lady of Silliness, may I escort you to your room so you can perform whatever silly things you need to do to get ready for dinner?  I understand it's a family dinner tonight and we're all to be there.”  He disengaged his hand and held out his arm.

"Well," Lys sniffed taking his arm in her best imitation of haughtiness, "I suppose you'll have to do.  Will you return to escort me to the hall?"

"Always, Lys, I'll always return," he promised as they climbed the steps to the Castle and walked to the family wing.  "And will you teach me to shoot on horseback?  I'd like to be silly too."

"Teach my silly secrets?  Maaaayyybbee.  If you're very nice.”  She leaned over, letting go of his arm, and kissed his cheek.  "Now let me go change and you can marvel at my beauty, when you return," she called as she slipped into her room.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Alistair and Loghain had arrived at Castle Cousland on the Day of the Wolf, as it came to be known, four days before Summerday.  Ostensibly, Alistair was with Loghain to act as his page.  Loghain presented him as a ward of Arl Eamon of Redcliffe, who would not be present that year.  Explanations were kept to a minimum.  With short, reddish blond hair, a tall slim build, warm hazel eyes, and a Redcliffe accent, Loghain hoped there would be no comparisons between Alistair and the absent King or Crown Prince.  As long as no one noticed the obviously Theirin nose, love of cheese, and propensity for ill-timed, quirky humor, all should be well.  Loghain's only worry was the singularly observant, ill-tempered Arl Howe, a man who would use any advantage to further himself.  Loghain vowed to keep Alistair as far from Howe as possible.

Since only Alistair, Loghain, Arl Howe and Nathaniel had arrived, Eleanor convened a family dinner the first evening.  Loghain watched Howe observe Alistair.  Loghain sat to Bryce's right and Howe to his left, which gave Howe a clear view of the boy sitting between Lys and Fergus across the table from him.  Bryce and Eleanor were far too trusting of this snake of man, vassal or no.

Alistair watched Lys.  He had to admit, she had astonished him when he went to escort her to dinner.  His disheveled, rowdy playmate came out of her room looking like… well he wasn't sure what.  A girl, a beautiful girl, tall, slender, moving with a lithe grace he hadn't realized she possessed outside the Practice Yard.

Lys' dress, made of a light, fine woolen weave, shifted from green to blue as she moved.  It hugged her figure flaring slightly from her hips.  The sleeves did the same, hugging her upper arms, and flaring at the elbows to trail almost to the floor.  The fitted sleeves of her under tunic covered her arms to her wrists.  Embroidered gold laurel garlands bordered the bateau neckline and the edge of the sleeves.  Several narrow loose green leather belts lay just below her waist, encircling her hips.  He was shocked to see the chain and laurel pendant he had given her as her only jewelry.  Her hair hung to her waist in the back, waving slightly.  The sides were pulled back from her face, braided, twisted and pinned up.  A few tendrils escaped to frame her face.  She smiled, told him he looked handsome, took his arm and walked into dinner with him, as if he deserved to be with her.  The feeling was breathtaking.

Loghain apparently had seen this aspect of Lys before.  He smiled.  "Well, I see you're wearing your signature Cousland dress, my lady."

"I am.  I loved Anora suggestion of picking a simple style and signature color.  I designed the fabric, mixing Cousland blue and green, and wove a sample.  Philippa did too, with Highever's colors.  We asked the local weavers guild to produce the fabric for us."

Philippa smirked.  "Since our mums underwrite and support the Guild, they were happy to work with us.  The Weavers Guild love Lys.  They'll do most anything she asks."

"Well, we help them profit.  Weaving our own Highever wool brings in more coin than simply selling the fleece to Nevarra."

Loghain shook his head laughing, "You Couslands and your trade.  I must admit, though, Highever definitely prospers."

Alistair sat quietly, listening to the exchange.  He was astonished to see another side of Lys.  An archer who singlehandedly killed a wolf that day; a hunter who the Dalish accepted into their clan and a noble girl comfortable with Teyrns and Kings.  He remembered that she wove and spun.  Now he found that she not only loved fashion, but also designed fabric.  Amazingly, she was also his friend.

Fergus, with dinner served, indulged in his favorite brotherly game: teasing Lys.  "So, Alistair, when will you and Lys spar tomorrow?"

"I don't know, My Lord.  I will await Lady Lys' challenge, should she be brave enough to offer it."

Lys pressed her lips together, but refused to be baited.  She responded coolly, "Alistair, you are challenged.  I will expect to see you in the Practice Yard at two marks after sunrise.”  She continued, to Pippa and Nathaniel's amusement, "I believe you fight with sword and shield?  If you did not bring weapons and practice armor, you may use armor and weapons from our Armory.  Perhaps Fergus will be so kind as to show you the boy's things, as most were his.  Fergus, will you aid our guest?"

Philippa giggled to Nathaniel, "I think that round went to Lys.”  Nathaniel chuckled his agreement.  He knew Fergus hated to get up early, but Lys had obligated him to help Alistair.

Fergus groaned, but smiled at Alistair, "Get me up when you're ready and I'll make sure you're well equipped to whip her−"

"Fergus" his mother warned.

"Bottom.”  He grinned at his mother.  Alistair tried hard not to smirk, but failed.  Lys looked prim as she glared at them both.

Dinner proceeded without further incident.  Arl Howe engaged Bryce and Loghain in conversation, ignoring the rest of the table, including the Arl of Higheverport.  Loghain thought Arl Philip looked relieved to be excluded.  Nathaniel remained silent, only occasionally chatting with Fergus or making a remark to Pippa.  At the end of the meal, the men retired to Teyrn Bryce's study for brandy.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The Teyrna and Arlessa Alyse Broughten, Eleanor's cousin and longtime friend, retired to the solar [5] to chat while the young people gathered to play games and talk.  Eleanor's solar, full of sun during the day, remained warm.  The Teyrna and Arlessa sat in comfortable chairs flanking the window, sipping wine, chatting and embroidering.  Nathaniel and Fergus began a game of chess at the game table on the wall opposite the cold fireplace.  Alistair, curious, sat with them and observed.  Realizing he was not familiar with the game, Fergus and Nathaniel explained what they were doing as they played.  Alistair's attention didn't waver until he heard singing.  Someone was playing a lute and two voices were melding in a lovely ballad.  He turned to find Lys playing, while her alto blended with Pippa's pure soprano.

Fergus smiled, realizing that Alistair had never heard her sing or play.  He whispered to Alistair, "Her many talents can be confounding at times."

"Is there anything she can't do?"

"Tolerate fools.  Exhibit patience.  Refrain from smugness.”  Fergus smirked.  "Truthfully, not much if she puts her mind to it.  Persistence is a blessing and a curse with her.  My sister is quite amazing, but I'll deny it if you tell her I said that," He studied Alistair for a moment, "You know you are good for her Alistair.  You challenge her.  She needs to know she can't best everyone all the time, no matter how perfect she tries to be."

Alistair frowned, "Loghain says that too.  That we complement each other.”  He blushed, but continued, "I think she's very special."

Nathaniel chimed in, "They both are really."

"Ah, right.  My friend here is quite taken with the lovely Philippa.  So you'll have to be satisfied with Lys, Alistair.”  Nathaniel and Alistair both blushed.

The chess game and music continued until the Arl joined the Arlessa to take Pippa home.  With that, the evening ended, as all the guests retired to their respective room.

* * *

 

[5] Solar: During the later Middle Ages noble woman, in particular, felt a need for more privacy than the Hall afforded. The solar provided a room in which they could be alone (or sole) and away from the hustle, bustle, noise and smells (including cooking smells) of the Great Hall. Since the woman often spun, wove or embroidered, it was typically placed on an upper floor on the south side to provide natural light.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. If you have time, please review. Book 1 may be complete, but I'm working on Book 2.
> 
> After completing Brief Shining Moments, I re-read and edited the entire work. From Chapter 14 on I had the support of my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion which resulted in far fewer errors. Any remaining are mine alone. There may be a few tweaks to wording, but no content changes. 
> 
> I’ve received the support of many reviewers. Mike3207, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Caraine, clafoung, SnowHelm, katdancer2, dustywalker, Easternviolet, ElyssaCousland, Nymra, ChaoticHarmony1991, EveHawk, susyjohn, Judy, maradeux, DjinniGenie, Pollyanna24, Contess. Others have followed and favorited the story or posted kudos. Thanks to all of you.
> 
> I created some appendices with commissioned art, timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure.


	15. The Sparring Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:20 Dragon 28 cloudreach --- Castle Cousland, Highever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 15 – THE SPARRING MATCH**

* * *

**9:20 Dragon  28 Cloudreach  ===  Castle Cousland**

Always eager to start her day, Lys slept with the shutters open to allow the dawn's light to gently awaken her.  She jumped out of bed, remembering she told Alistair to meet her in the Practice Yard for their sparring match.  She pulled on her stockings, leggings, shift and gambeson.  Smiling, she considered wearing her new armor, a Name Day gift from Teyrn Loghain.  The new leathers were Cousland blue.  In a clever composite, the left side of the breastplate bore a unique combination of arms.  Loghain had the armorer inscribe the Cousland laurels encircling the Highever crossed spears and teardrop.  Loghain created it knowing how important both her family and the Teyrnir were to her.  _I had better wear my practice armor_.  She sighed as she grabbed the worn armor, her bow and quiver, and her new blades.  She would go loosen up first, then put on her armor and complete some practice forms.  On her way, she took some cheese, fruit, and bread from the kitchen to eat when she finished her warm-up.

The blades were a Name Day gift from her parents.  One a dagger, the other a short sword.  The previous winter, she had switched from using two daggers.  She smirked, Alistair did not know about the short sword and resulting longer reach.  She knew she would best him in any archery contest.  _After all, he had not killed a wolf._

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Fergus groaned and slowly got out of bed when Alistair knocked.  He opened his door, and invited Alistair in, then went to splash cold water on his face.  To Fergus, Alistair looked disconcertingly cheerful and wide-awake.

"So, you're a cheerful early riser too?"

"I have to be an early riser to get my chores done before school, but I guess I'm cheerful, too."

"Let's eat before we go to the armory," Fergus suggested.

"I am hungry.”  When they entered the kitchen, Alistair looked around expectantly.  "I thought Lys might be here."

Fergus snorted, "She's probably been and gone.  She likes to loosen up and run through practice forms."

He looked at the cook's assistant who nodded, affirming that Lys had indeed been and gone.

Nathaniel joined them as they headed to the Armory.  Fergus pulled out armor he had used when he was younger.  It was a beautiful set of studded leather.  He added a shield and short sword to the pile.  Alistair was already in leggings, linen shirt, and gambeson.

"You know, Alistair, if these fit you well, you should take them.  You can always return them next year.  We'll exchange them for the next sized set."

"I… that's very generous.  I'm not sure…"

"Nonsense," said Fergus.  "I already spoke with Da.  He agreed.  No one uses these right now.  Why let them go to waste?  Let's see if they fit first."

Alistair tried on the leathers and found they fit almost perfectly.

"They'll be fine for today.  We'll have them adjusted after you finish knocking Lys on her arse.”  He grinned.

"She's your sister.”  Alistair frowned.

Fergus grinned.  "She is and I love her dearly, but she can be incredibly smug at times.  No one challenges her when they spar, including me.  We're all so much taller and older, we worry about really hurting her.  You, however, can spar without worry; you're well matched in size and I suspect skill.  So challenge her Alistair.  She needs to improve."

Alistair hesitated, "Are you sure?  I've never really seen her fight, you know, only shoot."

"Loghain has seen you both, sparred with you both, right?  If he says you should give it your all, you should."

A deep voice from behind Alistair said, "He's right Alistair.  She's becoming overconfident.  I think you can beat her.  Don't hold back.  Make it a good fight."

Alistair looked behind him and seeing the Teyrn said, "Good morning, Teyrn Loghain.”  He smiled warily at Fergus and Loghain, "I'll give it my best."

Walking out to the Practice Yard, he found Lys already there.  "Hi," he greeted her, almost shyly.

"Good morning, Alistair," she replied, formally.  He looked tough and serious in Fergus' armor, carrying Fergus' old shield and short practice sword.  The armor fit him well.  She looked at her brother and Loghain, "Are you going to judge?"

"We will.”  They turned as two others walked up to the fence around the Practice Yard.

"Pippa?”  Lys looked startled as her friend approached, dressed uncharacteristically in boots, linen leggings, long tunic and leather vest.  She carroed her bow and quiver.  "You're up very early today."

"I'm not missing this," Philippa chortled.  "I think Alistair can best you; and I thought I'd give you some more competition at the butts later."

Lys sighed.  "So I'm the underdog," she muttered to Fergus, who laughed.

"What's an underdog?”  Alistair asked.

Lys looked at him, surprised, "You heard that?  From over there?  You're ears are as sharp as Sarien's."

"Who?"

"A friend, who has particularly good hearing," she said.  "Shall we get started?” she added, hoping to divert his attention from the Arethian phrase.  As far as she knew, there were no dogfights in Thedas, certainly not in Ferelden, so there were no underdogs.  Mabaris only fought each other in battles, not for entertainment.  _Besides, no mabari was ever an underdog!_

Lys and Alistair went to the center of the yard.  Lys took a fighting stance, her short practice sword in her right hand and blunted dagger in her left.  She held her right shoulder and arm, which held her sword, slightly in front of  her left, which held the dagger.  She balanced equally on her feet, shifting back and forth, ready to respond to Alistair's attack.  Lys waited, expecting him to make the first move.  Nothing happened.  She circled to her left, but Alistair simply turned in place, keeping his shield between them.  Finally, she feinted with her dagger, moving to slice towards Alistair's right knee, expecting him to move his shield down and to the right for protection.  Once the shield was lowered, she would come in high with her short sword over his shield, away from his sword, and spin away to her right.  With luck, she'd get another hit on his arm or shoulder as she spun away.

Instead, Alistair blocked the feint by dropping his sword point down, leaving the shield in place.  Already committed to the dagger thrust and forward movement, Lys ran into his shield.  He immediately pushed out with it, making her stumble away.  She barely blocked his sword thrust as she regained her balance.  He grinned.

"Good one, Alistair," Fergus yelled.

Lys paused for a moment.  _Don't get angry.  He's good.  He knows more than basic moves.  At some point, he'll have to attack me.  I need to feign a weakness to draw him in._   She took a deep breath, and then tried several sword attacks and feints to confuse him.  They exchanged thrusts and parrys, but neither of them could gain a touch.  She tried moving to her right, as if attempting to attack to his side.  He blocked every move, but didn't attack.  Finally, she attacked overhand with her sword and, as Alistair blocked with his sword, she stepped in and to her left to land a hit under his arm with her dagger.  Again, he sidestepped quickly away before she could score a touch.  Then she dropped, rolled behind him and came up swinging her sword toward his ankles.  He jumped over the sword.  Then, he lifted his foot and pushed her onto her back before she could strike with her dagger.

"Hey," she complained.  "Dirty fighting."

Alistair grinned, "Not if it works, My Lady of the Blades."

She rolled away, just in time, as his sword came down where her chest had been a moment before.  _Maker, he is almost as quick as I am._   She jumped to her feet as he rushed her with his shield.  She withstood the bash, barely, and then stepped back out of his reach as he swung his sword towards her side, barely missing again.  His quick recovery foiled her effort to exploit the opening his extended arm afforded.

They circled again.  Sweat was running down her back, into her eyes and wetting her palms.  She was beginning to understand Fergus saying she had no real competition.  Alistair was good, he was not holding back and he was barely breathing hard.  He kept his shield close in, protecting himself, but always ready to push forward with a bash.  He managed his sword well, parrying in every direction, but maintaining control so he could follow up with a thrust or slash.  And he was quick.  Any opening was fleeting as he immediately regained a good defensive posture.  On top of that, he was taller and his reach was greater.

_How can I win?_

She grinned and switched the sword to her left hand and dagger to her right.  It was a ploy she had practiced, but never used.  She feinted upwards with the sword in her off hand, which Alistair moved to block with his sword, then feinted with her dagger, forcing him to move his shield to his right.  Immediately, she dropped into a roll to his left, slashed at his leg with her sword as she went by, jumped up behind him and pushed her dagger towards his underarm.  Only his underarm wasn't there.  Her hand slammed into his shield, which then caught her on her side.  Following through with the bash, he kicked her legs from under her and she went down.

A sword pointed at her chest.  "Yield."

She noticed it was not a question.  Looking back at him in shock, she murmured, "I yield."

"What was that, Lys?  I didn't hear you.”  Fergus yelled.

Alistair reached out a hand to help her up.  She stared at it for a moment, and then realized he had won fairly.  Being a poor loser wasn't a role she wanted to play.  She reached for his hand and let him pull up.

"You're not hurt are you?" he asked, concerned.

"Only my pride.”  She smiled.  "You're really good, you know.  Most sword and shield fighters are nowhere near so quick.  You're as fast as I am."

"Well, I'm light enough and quick enough to fight dual weapons like you do, but I prefer the shield.  I decided to incorporate some of the dual weapon moves.  It seems to work.  Surprises opponents if nothing else.”  He grinned.  "Besides I wanted to keep my promise."

"Right," she grimaced, "you could have broken it, I'd have forgiven you.”  They walked over to the group at the fence.

"Promise?”  Nathaniel asked.

"I promised I'd knock her on her arse when I sparred with her for the first time."

Nathaniel looked shocked, and then started laughing.  "Maker, I can't believe you got away with saying that, much less doing it."

"That's alright," Lys responded, "I'll beat all of you at the archery butts.  Then I'll show you how to shoot from horseback.  But, first, I want breakfast.  I'm starving.”  She linked her arm through Alistair's.  "And as the winner, I think Alistair gets first choice in the Hall."

Loghain and Fergus exchanged amused looks.  "Want to bet she's out here every morning practicing with him?"

"Not taking that bet Fergus.  We both know your sister.  Once challenged, she'll persist until she's accomplished her goal.  Actually, Alistair is the same.  They'll both be better by the end of our stay.”  Loghain sighed, "I wish I could arrange for them to see each other more often.  The two of them together are quite formidable.  Wait until she finds out he's a good archer too."

Fergus looked startled.  "He is?"

"Quite good.  Has a nice recurved ironbark elven bow very similar to the one Lys uses.  He brought that with him.  The archery competition should be quite interesting."

After breakfast, the group headed out to the archery butts.  The butts or archery practice area stood against the outer castle wall, separate from the other practice areas.  Long and narrow, the archers stood at one end.  A number of raised earthen mounds, with level tops on which to set targets, stood at the opposite end.  Spectators stood behind the archers.  For today's competition the archers would shoot _at will_ one at a time.  In battle, archers responded to commands and shot massed flights to incur maximum damage.  Sergeants barked, in sequence, ready your bows, nock, mark, draw and loose to troopers who trained here.

Nathaniel, an accomplished archer himself, joined in the competition, as did Pippa.  Again, Fergus and Loghain chose to watch.  Bryce kept Howe inside to discuss Teyrnir business, to the relief of the group at the butts.  While the discussion was probably necessary, Loghain suspected the timing was planned to prevent Howe from disrupting the young people.  The Arms Master oversaw the shoot, tallying points as would be done in a tourney.  Lys won, with Alistair a point behind.  Nathaniel, surprisingly ended up third two points behind, with Philippa fourth.

"Ali, do you do anything besides weapons practice?  Maker, you shot your first arrow only two years ago.”  Lys complained.

"I was very good that day, as you might recall, My Lady Petulant," he responded.  "And as you know, since you have I believe received numerous letters from me, I also worked hard at reading, writing, figures and my tasks at the Armory.  So yes, I do lots of other things.  I guess I'm just that good," he added smugly.

Philippa and Nathaniel were taken aback by his response, but Loghain and Fergus broke out laughing.  Lys smiled, but looked confused.  "Where is my Alistair and who are you?" she replied poking his side.

"I…  Lys," he blushed, "I thought … I mean, I wanted to prove I could do all this.  I thought that you wanted me to learn all these things."

"Ali, I did and I do, I was teasing you.  You are still my Alistair, just more so.  I told you I hoped you'd knock me on my arse, because that would mean the plan worked.  You did.  It has.  I'm glad.”  She took his hand and kissed his cheek.  "I'm also glad I won here, however, as my pride can only take so much damage in a day," she added grinning.

"That's good, you had me worried.  I thought maybe you preferred the awkward, stupid stable boy with straw in his hair."

"I do like the stable boy," Lys responded.  "Awkwardness, straw and all.  And I like the confident warrior.  And I like that you can write to me, although I prefer you here.”  Alistair was blushing by now.  She pulled him toward the stables.

Philippa cleared her throat, "Well, if you two are finished, can we get on with the horse archery lesson.  Because, then, I can finally not be in last place."

"Philippa, you did fine.  You just need to practice more frequently," Nate assured her, adding, "As do I apparently.  I was giving Alistair lessons the last time we shot.  Looks like he could give them to me now!"

Nate turned to Alistair, "You do have natural talent, but you had to work hard to improve this much.  And that bow is a beauty, but not easy to control.  Take credit for your hard work."

The four young people headed to the stables, with bows and quivers in hand, while Loghain and Fergus returned to the keep.  Since Lys had requested that four horses be saddled before they went to the archery butts, the mounts were ready and waiting when they arrived.

As they rode out onto the downs, Lys explained that Hitch and Philippa's horse, Loryn, were smooth gaited horses, which they had trained to keep moving while the girls shot from their horses back.  So far, they could only shoot acceptably when the horses ambled just a little faster than a walk.  The key to using a bow and arrow while on horseback was to control the horse entirely with your legs, which freed up your arms.  Lys and Philippa had perfected their control by riding their horses bareback.  Then, they practiced shooting while riding that way.  If they wanted to use the skill in real life, however, they needed to be able to shoot from a saddle and do it at speed, which was their current goal.

Lys and Philippa grinned at each other.  They had ridden to a spot where a lone ancient tree stood in the middle of the downs.  The branches, which angled sharply upwards from the large trunk, started about eight feet off the ground, making the trunk a good target.  The girls had wrapped it with straw filled mats to limit damage to the tree, itself.  Philippa took off first.  Circling the tree from ten yards out, Pippa nocked an arrow, raised her bow, aimed and released.  She hit the tree, but near the base of the trunk.  She tried again and her arrow hit higher.  She repeated the moves and only missed the trunk once, as the horse moved at a steady pace around the tree.

Lys moved at faster pace and hit the tree between four six feet off the ground every time.  Before stopping, she grinned and rode back and forth past the two boys, landing an arrow at the feet of each, must to their discomfort.

"Lys!”  Philippa exclaimed, "I thought we agreed not to do that again."

"I agreed not to do that to _you_ again."

Nathaniel and Alistair groaned.

Nathaniel said, "Lys, please agree not to do it to us as well, or anyone else, ever.  You're good, but you should never aim near another person, if you don't plan to hit them.  Pippa's right, it's dangerous."

"Sorry, you're right, it could be dangerous if you moved after I aimed.  I'll not do it again."

"Right," Alistair chuckled, "because, of course, your aim is always perfect and there couldn't possibly be a change in wind direction or speed unless we were on the coast or in the mountains.  Oh wait, we are on the coast…."

Lys sniggered, "Are we?  You haven't seen the Waking Sea yet have you?"

"Actually, just there on the horizon, I see a ship, so I'm guessing I have."

"You're kidding, you can see a ship?”  Nathaniel asked.  "No wonder you're so good with a bow.  I thought only Lys had eyes that keen.  I don't know Alistair, scary good hearing, wicked good eyesight, good with a bow… are you sure you're not an elf?"

"Have you seen me, Nate?  Tall.  Round ears.  Not that I don't like elves, but I don't think I'm one of them."

Philippa and Lys giggled, as Philippa chided, "He's already as tall as you Nate, which is taller than most adult elves, so that's not likely."

Nathaniel muttered, "Joking, alright?”  He turned to Lys again.  "Promise us Lys, never even aim near anyone."

"Fine, I will never aim or loose an arrow at anyone I don't intend to kill.  Now let's get on with your lessons."

Nate shook his head.  “I guess that will do.”

Lys suggested that the boys try shooting from Hitch and Loryn when standing until they were more comfortable with the skill.  The two boys instead tried from a walk, insisting they could forgo practicing from a standstill, but found the skill more difficult than they expected.  Finally, they both shot as the horses stood quietly and succeeded in learning the proper form.  Before the end of the day, each had placed a few arrows in the trunk, from a walk.

"So, Lys, brilliant idea, but how did you come up with it?”  Alistair asked.  "You never answered me."

"Just popped into my head one day when I was riding Hitch out here and carrying my bow.  Guess I'm just that clever," Lys claimed, smirking.  In truth, of course, the idea had come from history lessons at school in Areth.  After reading of archers who could shoot from a galloping horse, she became determined to try it herself.  She'd read all she could on how they achieved the feat and decided she and Hitch could learn too.  Thus began her experiments with bareback riding and archery on horseback.  Eventually, as she succeeded she'd included Philippa, who enjoyed both riding and archery.  It had been fun and rewarding to find they could learn the skill together.

_Of course, now, I should figure out whether mounted archers could be used or if the skill is just for show and has no practical application in Thedas._ She recalled that the Arethian tribes who used mounted archers did not face fully armored troops. _I should discuss it with Loghain._

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Dinner was in the family dining hall again.  Lys introduced the topic of how the Guard might use horse archers in battle.  She believed the skill could be useful to Guard patrols, each of which already included a few foot archers.  After briefly tolerating Howe's derisive scoffing, Loghain cut in.

"The Night Elves sometimes traveled on horseback, but never tried to shoot," he mused.  "I think the skill would be more useful in daylight."

"I thought using horse archers and foot archers-" Lys began, but before she could complete her thought Alistair cut in.

"-the horse archers would move quickly, and create crossfire from their mounts.  They could even ride down the line of enemy troops, shooting as they went.  They'd be a difficult target to hit, while still doing damage."

Howe snorted disparagingly, "Stupid, boy.  You're as foolish as the girl.  Mounted archers, indeed."

Teryn Bryce angrily replied to the Arl's disparaging remarks, "Howe, I'll thank you to curb your rudeness.  I can't tell you how to treat your own son, but you will not speak that way to my daughter or our guests.  Either participate civilly or keep silent."

Howe glared at the Teyrn, but held his tongue as Loghain added, ""You are, then, an expert archer?"

Howe remained silent.

"No?  I am, and I think the idea has merit.  A mix of foot archers and mounted archers on light, swift horses could do much damage in support of infantry.  Mounted archers against chevaliers…. an even more interesting thought.  During the Rebellion, we could only operate at night, when we had the advantage of elven night eyes and dismounted Orlesian Chevaliers.  On horseback, we'd have had the advantage of speed to attack in day light, then run away from the Chevaliers."

"Hit and run," Lys quickly offered.  _Maker be damned, another Arethianism.  Well, I'll pretend I made it up._

"Exactly.  Good way to describe it."  Loghain agreed.

Nathaniel started to comment, then stopped, realizing he'd suffer for any remarks favoring Loghain's argument.  He loved the idea, but knew he could never hope to see it put into effect in Amaranthine.

"You should try this Bryce.  If nothing else, it would be fascinating to watch Lys teach your guardsmen.  Good experience for her as well."

Bryce nodded, thoughtfully, "It might at that.  I'll consider it.  Perhaps set up a practice ring.”  He looked at Howe, "I know you disagree, Rendon, but I wouldn't mind Nathaniel helping with this, if you'd allow it.  He's already a fine archer.  Worst case, he'd improve his skills and get some leadership experience."

"Fine archer?  He was beaten by a girl and a bastard today.  Then he continued to play with the children at foolish games.  Of course, I will send him to you if you order it, My Liege, but I have no desire to encourage his foolish pursuits any further.  As we discussed, he won't be squiring here.  He'll return to South Reach and complete his squiring there."

"As you wish, Rendon.  While we would welcome it, I will not order his participation."

Philippa, unseen, reached over and pressed Nathaniel's hand beneath the table.  Lys and Alistair avoided looking at him.  Fergus, however, did not avoid Nathaniel's gaze, he arched his eyebrows to convey his dismay at Howe's harsh words.  Nathaniel shrugged, almost imperceptibly.

Bryce moved to change the subject to the Tourney and which knights had begun to arrive at the Tourney grounds.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Again, the men retired to Bryce's study, while everyone else gathered in the solar.  Fergus encouraged Alistair to try a game of chess with Nathaniel, while he observed and coached.  Lys and Pippa sat with their mothers.  Pippa embroidered.  Lys spun her carded wool batts, which were stored in a basket at her feet.  She watched Alistair enjoying the game with Nate and Fergus.  Eventually, Alistair switched places to let Fergus play.

Lys stowed her spindle in the basket and walked over to him.  She placed a hand on his shoulder.  "You enjoy chess?"

"I think I do.  I've never played before tonight, but I enjoyed it, even though I lost miserably.”  He grinned.

"Will you come with me?  I want to show you something."

"Of course."

Fergus looked up.  "Where are you taking him, Lys?"

She leaned over and whispered, "Tower, but don't say it aloud.  I want to surprise him."

"Fine.  I'll let Mum know if she asks.  Don't stay too late."

Alistair and Lys walked down the hall to the Northwest Tower entrance.  The stairs spiraled up to a trap door, which Lys pushed open.

"It's such a beautiful night.  I wanted to show you where I come to star gaze."

Alistair walked to the Tower battlement, which did not connect to the others that surrounded the castle.  "Is that the moon reflected in the sea?"

"Yes, incredible isn't it?"

They leaned against the battlement, next to each other, shoulders touching.  Lys slipped her arm through his.

Alistair chuckled, "Loghain says we are like two mabari puppies.  We always curl up next to each other.  It's nice."

"Why wouldn't we?  We care about each other.  Hugging, cuddling, holding hands, it what people who care about each other do.  Well and tickling.  Fergus tickles.  I'm not always fond of that.”  She giggled.  "If I promise not to tickle you, will you promise not to tickle me?"

"I would.  Why is tickling so bad?"

"it's not bad, just annoying.  He's bigger, so I always lose.  I hate to lose."

"You lost to me today."

She spoke softly, "I know, but that was a good loss; it meant Loghain's plan worked.  It did, didn't it?  The Orlesian doesn't bother you."

"It has.  I never see her.  I don't even see the Arl very often.  It's wonderful.  The Sister thinks I'm smart.  Fooled her, huh?"

She punched his arm.  "You _are_ smart, Alistair."

"Oww!  Smart and fragile.  Don't hurt me.”  He moaned as if he was pain.

"I did not hurt you."

"You did.  I'll be all bruised and you will win if we spar tomorrow."

She looked uneasy.  "I didn't."

He grinned.  "Fooled you.”  Then he stepped away before she could punch him again.

"Arms Master Robert says I'm very good.  And quick," he laughed as he ducked another punch.  "I yield, I yield, My Lady of the Fists.  I shouldn't tease you, I apologize abjectly."

"Abjectly?"

"Means humbly.  I humbly apologize."

Lys tried not to giggle and failed.  "I will have to pay more attention to Aldous, I see, or you will bury me in arcane terminology."

"I can try."

Serious again, she asked, "Really, Ali, is the plan working?"

"Really, Lyssie, it is.  I still don't fit in, exactly, but it's so much better.  My old friends accept me again now that I'm in school.  I enjoy learning both at school and in the Armory.  Master Robert teaches me about arms, armor, fighting forms and methods, even while I work.  Master Wilmot still lets me help at the stables.  I've been training the colts.  Now I'm here…with you.  It's a better life than I ever imagined.  And you made it happen, so thank you."

"I didn't.  I only told Papa and Loghain."

"And you think they would have noticed me if you kept quiet?  You did this for me, Lys.  Loghain, I think, does it for me now, but he never would have if you hadn't asked for his help first.  He started to help me because of you.”  He looked puzzled.  "Lyssie, why won't you take credit for a good thing?"

"I don't know.  I just tried to help fix something that was wrong.  Loghain and Papa did the work.  But, if you insist, you are welcome.  I'm just so glad it worked.  Loghain said it had, but I wanted to hear it from you.  I wasn't asking you to thank me."

"Well, I do thank you.  Now, weren't we supposed to be looking at stars?"

"We were."

"Well, then My Lady of the Constellations – see I know what they are now and thank you, again, for the book you sent with Loghain – lets gaze.”  He sat down and leaned against the battlements.  She curled up next to him, as they pointed out the formations they recognized.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. If you have time, please review. Book 1 may be complete, but I'm working on Book 2.
> 
> After completing Brief Shining Moments, I re-read and edited the entire work. From Chapter 14 on I had the support of my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion which resulted in far fewer errors. Any remaining are mine alone. There may be a few tweaks to wording, but no content changes. 
> 
> I’ve received the support of many reviewers. Mike3207, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Caraine, clafoung, SnowHelm, katdancer2, dustywalker, Easternviolet, ElyssaCousland, Nymra, ChaoticHarmony1991, EveHawk, susyjohn, Judy, maradeux, DjinniGenie, Pollyanna24, Contess. Others have followed and favorited the story or posted kudos. Thanks to all of you.
> 
> I created some appendices with commissioned art, timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure.


	16. The Waking Sea, Weaving and a Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:20 Dragon Cloudreach === Castle Cousland and Higheverport

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

"Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…"  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 16: HIS LIFE SHOULD BE LIKE THIS**

* * *

 

**9:20 Dragon 28 Cloudreach === Castle Cousland and Higheverport**

The next days, leading up to Summerday itself, went by quickly.  Lys, Alistair and Loghain spent part of one day riding across the fields and along the coastal cliffs.  Lys and Alistair practiced their mounted archery skills, as Loghain observed, before riding towards the cliff edge and the path to the beach.  Passing the original Cousland farmstead site, Lys pointed out the depression marking the cellar hole and the ancient oak tree, which, according to legend, Melys Cousland planted upon her arrival in Highever.  From the farmstead, the riders followed the cliff path past the Portal cave to the beach.

"It's amazing," Alistair said, dismounting to walk along the shore of the Waking Sea.  "It makes Lake Calenhad look like a puddle.”  He took his boots and stockings off to wade.  "And very cold!"

Lys and Loghain laughed.  "I told you we don't swim until later in Bloomingtide."

"I can stand it."

Loghain drawled.  "Yes, once you become numb, it is easier.  Please don't make us pull you out."

"Fine, fine, I'll come out."

"Let's look for shells.  You can take a few good ones back with you."

Alistair was fascinated by the shells, the shorebirds, but mostly by the large, almost wormlike creatures with huge eyes, whiskers and… wings?

"Those are sea lions which are a type of seal," Lys explained, following his gaze across an inlet to a rocky peninsula extending out from the beach.

"Are those feet or wings?"

"They're sort of feet, but they're called flippers.  They use them to swim."

Alistair laughed as he watched them.  Less than elegant on land, they undulated their way across the sand, pushing with their flippers.  In water, however, they became graceful, leaping, diving and moving swiftly, as they fed and played.

"They enjoy sunning themselves on the beach and then they go into the sea to catch fish.  There are several types of seals along our coast.  When we go to Higheverport, you'll see harbor seals.  They're smaller and fun to watch too.  Farther west on the coast, elephant seals have a rookery," Lys added.  " You can climb down into a cave from the cliff top to watch them.  We'll ride to that cave another time."

Loghain called the two young people over to the cliff side.  He held a piece of shale with the impression of what looked like a shell.  "I found this in the scree ,” he said, pointing to the piles of loose rock at his feet.  “It's rather interesting."

"Ah, an ammonite fossil," said Lys.  "We find a lot of them along this section of cliff."

"Ammonite fossil?"

"Um, we think it's the impression, in the shale, of a shell fish that lived in ancient, really ancient times.  Sometimes we find impressions of different shells.  My great-grandfather collected them.  There's a room in Castle Cousland where we store all his pieces.”  They proceeded to sift through the scree. Lys soon found part of another fossil.

Alistair had broken apart a large piece of shale as he searched. "Look! I found two fossils inside this piece."

"I think that is one fossil, Ali. The animal was caught in between those two pieces. What you see are both sides of it. We don't find very many of those in the scree. The usually break apart when the rocks fall."

Alistair held it out to Lys, "You can add this to your great-grandfather's collection then."

"Nonsense, you will take it back with you. You found it. It's yours, now."

Loghain smiled, as Alistair rewarded Lys with a wide grin. "I can? Thanks. I'll add it to my shelf of treasures."

"Shelf of treasures?"

"Sure, the one with the star book, figurines, amulet – you know."

"Oh, of course, in your room. Perfect. Someday, we can come back and look for more fossils in the cliff face, itself. We need small picks to do that. We might find more of the 'double' ones like yours, Ali. The miners find different fossils in the tin and copper mines in the Coast Range. They still send them to us, following a tradition my great-grandfather started."

"Interesting," Loghain replied. "Was it your great-grandfather who named them fossils?"

Lys cocked her head, "I don't know. We just take it for granted, but I guess collecting them is unique to Couslands."

"I'd enjoy seeing that collection, as well as coming back one day to find more here."

"Then we shall, the next time you and Alistair visit."

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

After riding the undulating beach trail that sometimes climbed along the cliff face, the three reached a place where the river flowed out of Star Lake and emptied into the sea. The cliffs dipped into the Star River valley offering a path back up to the cliff tops and coastland fields. The three riders headed along the small river to Star Lake where Lys had killed the wolf. Several streams from the Coast Range fed Star Lake with snowmelt.

Lys pointed to a nearby hill. "The reflection of the sky on a calm night, seen from that hill, is so clear it seems that the stars in the heavens had fallen into the lake."

They stopped by the shore and Lys re-enacted the wolf attack, climbing the tree and shooting the imaginary foe. Then they settled under the tree for their meal. Once full and rested, Lys suggested they swim out to the island, just offshore.

"The lake is warmer than the sea," she assured them. Stripping to her tunic and leggings, she ran in.

Alistair and Loghain looked at each other, shrugged and did the same.

Alistair ran in, getting to his waist before he yelled, "Maker, preserve me! This is what you call warm?"

Loghain followed more slowly, and then swam off with strong strokes. Alistair joined him on the pebbled beach where Lys waited. She walked into the forest following a stream. It led to a pool at the base of a waterfall.

"There's a spring and small pond on top of the cliff," she explained. "It overflows and creates the waterfall, which fills this natural rock basin. From the basin, the stream flows into the lake." She dove into the pool and swam under the waterfall. Loghain and Alistair followed.

They had noticed she had a small pouch tied around her waist. She climbed onto a ledge behind the falls and laid the pouch down. From it, she pulled out bars of soap. Philippa and I like to wash our hair here, she explained. Here's some soap if you want it. Turning away, she proceeded to rub the soap through her waist length hair.

Alistair tapped her on her shoulder.

"I can do that for you if you don't think it's too awkward," he offered. "I'm guessing you and Philippa wash each other's hair."

Lys smiled, “We do.  It’s much easier to was another’s hair.”  She handed him the soap and Alistair blushed as he did a thorough job of washing her hair without creating too many tangles.   Lys had him tie it at her neck and again part way down her back before she swam under the falls to rinse it.  If it got too tangled it would have to cut.  She did not want that.

Once Lys' hair was clean, she insisted on washing Alistair's, causing more blushing. Then they both dove back in the pool and attempted to dunk each other. Loghain watched from a sunny perch on the rocks. Both children were good swimmers and managed to evade each other's attacks most of the time. Lys had the advantage of being able to swim underwater for long periods. She delighted in getting behind Alistair to pull him down from underneath or to surface and press him under. He came up spluttering and thrashing every time, wondering how she stayed under for so long.

_Alistair's life should be like this every day. Training, lessons, exploring, chores and playing with a friend. He should have the normal life afforded to any young noble boy._ Alistair's life in Redcliffe improved upon his past, but it did not equate with these happy times here in Highever.

_Why, do I so enjoy these excursions with my young friends?_ He realized that he did consider them friends. In Gwaren, during his self-imposed exile from Denerim during Rowan's life, he had spent time like this with Anora. But, Anora was his daughter. Alistair and Lys were just someone else's children. He smiled to himself, _challenging children._ They had that in common with Anora. Excursions, particularly with Lys, were never boring, but sometimes, like today, incredibly relaxing.

With Lys, unlike Alistair or even Anora, he was often the follower. He chuckled. _King Maric loves to tease me about that_. Loghain Mac Tir, the Hero of River Dane and Commander of the Armies, jumping to obey the orders of a ten year old, King Maric would chortle. Perhaps we should come up with an even more imposing title for Lady Cousland. Then again, when he teased Loghain, King Maric was usually riding beside him following Lys' orders as well. Not to mention that Loghain was used to following a young girl's orders, being Anora's father.

Loghain finally stood, dove and climbed out onto the beach announcing it was time they started back. Reaching the shore, they lay in the sun for a while talking, until they dried off enough to don their outer layer of clothes and mounted their horses for the return ride. Dinner tonight would be formal, with the children eating separately, since more guests would arrive today. His relaxing few days at Castle Cousland were at an end.

**9:20 Dragon 29 Cloudreach === Castle Cousland and Higheverport**

The Summerday Market Fair officially opened on 30 Cloudreach. The Fair continued for the next week, as the Teyrnir held the annual Summerday Tourney and the town filled with nobles and common folk alike, all wanting to attend the games, shop at the Fair, gossip, and gawk at the other participants. Only the King's annual Tourney in Denerim at Wintersend, just before the Little Landsmeet, was larger. Like Denerim, Higheverport served ships from all over Thedas. Accessibility from Nevarra and the Free Marches was quick and easy during warm weather. Even merchants from as far north as Antiva City and Rivain joined the others setting up booths and thronging the field at the edge of Higheverport dedicated to the Fair.

Lys, Philippa and Alistair left the Bann's Keep to go into Higheverport. The Fair would open tomorrow, so today the girls decided to show Alistair their city. Walking with Philippa and Lys, he realized that while the girls were well known, he was not. He knew he looked like a young lord, even though he didn't think of himself that way. Why not pretend for the day? Both girls treated him as their equal, so the townsfolk would do the same.

"-Ali! What are you planning?" Lys interrupted his thoughts.

"Planning? Nothing," he replied. "Why?"

"That grin."

"Oh, I was just thinking. Higheverport is so different from Redcliffe. Bigger, more going on and the people are different. They treat you and Philippa with respect, but don't hesitate to speak to you. I mean they don't wait for you to address them, before speaking."

Philippa turned to Alistair. "Well, of course, not! They are all free men and women, most with their own businesses or farmholds. They pledge to our families, but this is not Tevinter. They are not slaves. Respect must be mutual.".

"Pippa," Lys began gently, "not all of Ferelden is like Highever. I know what Ali means. Redcliffe is much more … well formal, I suppose. No one speaks to the Arl or Arlessa until addressed by them, but the Arlessa is Orlesian, as I've told you. It's quite different there."

Philippa looked contrite "Sorry, Alistair. I guess I forget this is your first visit here. Lys talks about you so much, it seems like I've always known you. I know you weren't always treated well by the Guerrins." She touched his arm, "You can always come here and stay with us. I've always wanted a brother." She grinned mischievously, "preferably younger, as older brothers like Fergus can be a pain, but you'd do."

Alistair blushed, but chuckled. "So when I run away from the Arlessa I can just show up at the Keep and you'll take me in? Good to know."

"Any time, Alistair."

Lys, felt a twinge of jealously.  Pippa, a year older,was blond, petite, the perfect young noblewoman.  Lys too often felt too tall, too muscular and too brash.   _But that’s me.  I can’t be Pippa.  At least Alistair is taller than I am._ She stillfrowned at Philippa and then changed the subject. "Since this is your first visit, let's tour the city. Higheverport isn't as big as Denerim, but its harbor is about the same size and just as busy. They wound their way through the main square, filled with colorful merchants’ stalls and surrounded by the Higheverport town hall, guild buildings and Chantry. Reaching the far side, stronger scents of salt, fish, tar and a mixture of unknown odors filled the air.

To the right, was a crowded jumble of tall buildings. The streets in that direction were filled with elves. Alistair stopped. "Is that an Alienage? I've never seen one before."

"Yes, but it's not fenced and gated like the ones elsewhere. There is a wall between the Alienage and the city on the west, but it doesn't surround the Alienage. Many of the elves work on the docks, which are nearby. Others work as servants, messengers and such, as they do in other cities. The difference is that we allow elves in Highever to own businesses and belong to guilds. Not many do and there's still prejudice, but they can if they choose to. At least, the opportunities are there."

"Can they become apprentices or join the guilds if they can't read and figure?" Alistair asked.

"Why wouldn't they be able to read and figure," Philippa replied.

"Do they go to school?"

"Of course. There's a school in the Alienage and they can also attend the city school. The Chantry school doesn't take many elves, but that's why there's a school run by the city."

"Doesn't the Revered Mother get angry?"

"No. My great-great-grandfather established the city school. It's just accepted now,” Pippa replied.

"So elves and humans can go to school together? And apprentice together? Do humans work for elves?"

Pippa laughed. "Of course. Anyone can work for anyone."

"There are several prosperous elven owned businesses in Highever that all citizens patronize.," Lys said. "Humans work in those businesses. The best smith in Highever, Franos Varoniel, is elven. And Cariel's gold work is unmatched in Ferelden. Arl Philip and my father feel strongly about improving opportunities for Highever elves. Our Stable Master is elven."

Lys pointed to the buildings along the left side of the street, wrinkling her nose, "These are the dye yards. They smell terrible, but the yarn and cloth they produce are quite beautiful. The yarn for the Cousland colors dress I wore the other night was dyed here."

"Can we see them?" Alistair asked, curious.

"We can, although not today. I'll need to arrange a visit. Are you really interested?"

"I am," Alistair confirmed. "So the wool is also spun and woven here?"

"Yes, it's a business our families underwrite and support. Our mothers both work closely with the Guilds. Pippa and I work with them now that we are old enough. It's become quite profitable for Highever's people. We used to sell and ship all the fleeces and woolsacks[1] [6]to Nevarra. Now we turn almost half the wool production here into cloth. We passed the Cloth Hall, which faces the square. It is the home of the Cloth Guild of merchants who engage in the cloth trade. The Weavers, Spinners and Dyers Guilds are the craft guilds producing the yarn and cloth the merchants sell. The craft guild halls and workshops are behind the Cloth Guild on Wool and Woad Streets."

"The Guilds started after the Rebellion?"

"Yes, there were artisan groups before that, but the Orlesians didn't encourage them. They wanted all our wool sent to Orlais. Once the Rebellion ended, Mum and Cousin Alys, Pippa's mum, decided to revive the artisan groups. They grew into the Guilds as the manufacture of cloth grew." She looked at Alistair, "Are you really interested? If you don't stop me, I'll keep talking."

"I am, My Lady of the Woolsacks, truly. It's all new to me."

Pippa giggle, "She's serious, Alistair, we can talk about this all day."

"I'll listen all day." He touched Lys' arm, "Please go on."

"The women and men who spin or weave belong to the Guilds, but most work from home or small workshops. The Guilds main function is to control quality, although they each run a large workshop in their guildhall. The Spinner's supervise the preparation of the fleece, work with the Weaver's to set the requirements for the yarn and inspect the yarn once it's spun. They pay well for the work. The Weaver's Guild works in a similar manner to oversee the weavers."

"The Spinners and Dyers work with the Weaver's how?

"The Weaver's cloth orders determine what weight of yarn, what thickness, the spinners spin and what colors the dyers dye. Most of what we export is woven cloth, not yarn."

"I see."

"Dying, on the other hand, is all done in the dye yards over there. All the trading in wool and cloth happens through the Cloth Merchants Guild. We'll visit the Cloth Hall later. Let's go on to the docks now."

Alistair noticed masts rising above the buildings. These were ships, not the fishing boats or small trading cogs[2][7] he was used to seeing on Lake Calenhad. Surveying the docks as they emerged onto the broad quay paralleling the water, Alistair saw numerous caravels[3][8] and cogs of varying sizes used in the local Waking Sea trade. There were hoys[4][8] from Kirkwall and ones used for the Fereldan coastal trade and smaller picards[5][10] serving the ships in the port. What caught his attention were the carracks[6][11]. The high castles and three masts identified the huge ships used in the long distance trade.

"There are so many ships," he marveled. "Is it usually so busy, or are they all here for Summerday?"

"Higheverport is a busy port, but there are usually not so many empty ships standing off in the roads," Philippa noted. "They await their owners, mostly merchants, who come here for the Fair. Many of the merchants live on their ships during the Fair, preferring their comfortable great cabins to overcrowded inns."

Alistair watched, fascinated, as he noticed the lighters carrying goods and people to and from the ships moored at anchor in the harbor and beyond in the roads. It was so busy, unlike the sleepy village of Redcliffe. Surging around them were sailors from Nevarra, The Marches, Rivain and Antiva, each speaking their own language, as well as the Common Tongue. Seheron Tea, Tevinter silk, Orlesian cheese and other goods piled on the quay came from farther afield. He smelled the sea, spices, tar, smoke, wet wood, fish and other odors he couldn't identify. He felt a twinge of envy that Lys and Philippa lived in such a fascinating place.

Behind him, the Customs House rose above the wharves, housing the harbor officials. A crane rose from a rotating platform in front of the Customs building, where goods could be unloaded and taxed, before moving to the owner's warehouse. Warehouses belonging to individual guilds or merchant houses spread along the quay in both directions beyond the official buildings. Inns, pubs and other establishments served the transient population of sailors and merchants that passed through the harbor town. The sounds, smells, dirt and color amazed Alistair. For a moment, he just stood taking it all in.

"Look," Pippa pointed, "There are harbor seals playing in the water by the pier." Alistair saw small sea creatures slipping through the water, bumping each other or flipping themselves onto rocks in the distance where the quay ended.

"They're much smaller than the sea lions we saw yesterday. They're…cute?"

Lys laughed, "They are and playful. It's fun to walk out to those rocks and watch them."

"Are you getting hungry?" Philippa asked, poking him.

"Starving," groaned Alistair, grinning.

Lys and Philippa exchanged looks and then steered Alistair back towards the town square and market, avoiding the rough taverns and inns serving the sailors and dockworkers. They emerged and headed directly for the smell of food. Lys purchased three servings of grilled fish with slices of bread and cups of sweet cider. Once they'd devoured the fish, they moved on to find honey cakes, each buying one to eat immediately and a sack of twelve to take home.

“Not as good as your friend Meg, makes in Redcliffe,” Lys whispered, “but tasty enough.”

Filled for the moment, Lys headed for the Cloth Hall as the others followed. Entering, she greeted the Steward and asked if she and Philippa could show their friend the Hall. The Steward nodded his assent.

"Master Witcomb, may we first beg use of your facilities to clean our hands. We just ate in the market and don't want to soil anything."

"Certainly, Lady Cousland. You know where the washbowls are kept. Thank you for your consideration. Please let me know if I, or any of the staff, can assist."

"You are welcome, Master."

Lys, Philippa and Alistair headed to the courtyard, where washbowls already filled with water stood on a bench by the well. They each washed and dried their hands on the linen towels provided, before heading back into the hall.

Alistair stood taking in the grand central hall rising three stories and surrounded on three sides by galleries on the upper floors. The front wall had windows at each level flooding the open central hall with light. Stairs curved upward on either side of the entry giving access to the second and third levels. Tapestries graced the walls on either side showing various stages of wool's metamorphoses from sheep to fleece to yarn to cloth or tapestry.  Dying could happen at the yarn or cloth stage.  One tapestry even showed Andraste weaving and spinning. That's a new image, Alistair thought, but she had been a wife, mother and slave, so she probably had womanly skills. Using Andraste in hangings indicated wool was serious business here in Highever.

Lys broke into his observations. "It's quiet here today, as most of the merchants are setting up their booths at the Fair. If serious purchasers arrive, they will bring them back here to see additional cloth samples while entertaining them in the private rooms upstairs. They may also extend the use of those rooms, as a courtesy, to foreign merchants with whom they have a trading relationship. I know the Haris family, wealthy merchants from Nevarra, often use the Cloth Hall facilities when in Highever."

Lys wrinkled her nose as Pippa laughed at her, "I know, I sound like Mum. I think I've heard her say all this so often I have it memorized. Philippa could do the same, her Mum has a similar speech." The girls giggled.

"So your mothers still work with the merchants? And you both come with them?"

"Yes and yes." Philippa replied.

"Mum has family connections in Nevarra," Lys explained. "So, as Teyrna, when she saw the chance to build a cloth business here in Highever, Mum, talked with her family at House Haris in Nevarra and asked them to help us set up the industry here. They agreed, believing there was more than enough business for everyone. Then, Mum worked with Arlessa Alys, who is her cousin, and the small artisan groups, which already produced cloth. She provided funding and contacts in Nevarra. Over the past fifteen years the business and the Guilds have grown."

Philippa chimed in, "Lys and I both enjoy spinning and weaving. Lately, we've learned a lot about dying, mostly related to what plants produce what colors, and we now try our hand at actually designing cloth. Lys designed the cloth for her Cousland colors fabric using blue and green wool dyed and woven to her specifications. We learned so much experimenting with colors and weave structures. That is the pattern of the weave."

Alistair cocked his head, regarding Lys quizzically, "So, you really do enjoy all this? I mean, I know you told me trade is important and that you can do this, but I've only seen you ride and fight."

Lys' mouth quirked into an almost smile, "So a girl who rides and fights, can't weave and spin? Didn't we talk about this before?"

"Of course you can weave and spin. I know that. You've told me you can, but it's a side of you I'd never seen, until I came here. You know, maidenly," he grinned and ducked as if he expected her to hit him.

Hands on her hips and frowning, Lys feigned a glare, "If you don't find this too boring we can look around, otherwise we'll leave you to enjoy yourself away from evidences of maidenly pursuits."

He held his hands up palms forward, "I yield, My lady of the Spindle and Loom," he pleaded. "Everything about today has been fascinating, including your company. Please, My Maidenly Archer, I'd like to know more."

Turning on her heel, and smothering a giggle, Lys headed toward the open showrooms offering samples of fabrics. Both she and Philippa took turns explaining the dying process, types and sizes of yarns and how color and yarn played a part in the look of the final woven product. The cloth ranged from heavy waxed cloth used for cloaks and shelters to fine lightweight wool for elegant garments. Alistair was amazed at the variety of color and fabric weights and textures. He'd never seen such variety in Redcliffe.

"This would amaze the Arlessa, I think."

Lys sniffed, "The Orlesian's knowledge of fashion couldn't fill a thimble. I doubt she's ever actually lived in an Orlesian city. Her family probably scuttled across the border to whatever lands they came from. Then she scuttled back to capture the Arl when he returned from the Free Marches. Let's go home," she said, abruptly, not wanting to spoil her good mood with more discussion of Arlessa Isolde. "I'd like to take a ride before dinner. We should just have time. What do you think?"

"I agree, it's time to go home, but I'll not go riding today." Philippa demurred. "You and Alistair can go. I'll see you tomorrow at the Guild Hall with mother."

The three headed out of the Cloth Hall and through the market to the road west towards the Arl's Keep, near the West Gate, and Castle Cousland beyond.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Once they left Pippa at the Arl's Keep, Lys went back to the conversation they'd been having about the Arl and Arlessa of Redcliffe, venturing onto topics, which couldn't be addressed while Pippa was with them. "I still think she's an Orlesian spy, but it's the Sister who's the Orlesian Bard."

"What, a Bard? Who, Sister Eleutheria?"

"Of course."

"And you think Arl Eamon is a spy too?"

"No, I think he's a fool under the influence of a spy and a Bard."

Alistair shifted uneasily, "Lys, the Arl has been good to me. He took me in and he didn't have to."

"How was not educating you, letting Isolde whip you and putting you in the stables being good to you?" Lys regarded him quizzically. "And what do you mean he didn't have to. Of course, he had to. Taking you in wasn't his idea. It wasn't done out of kindness on his part. He was told to take you and to take care of you. Then he didn't. That's why Loghain is involved now. To make sure he fulfills his duty to your father.

"My… what? My father? What do you know about my father?" He was looking distinctly uneasy now.

"I know who I think he is." She looked at him, "Do you know who he is?"

"Yes. I'm not supposed to talk about him, you know." Alistair sighed, as Lys simply stared at him. Finally, resigned to talking with her he asked, "How long have you known?"

"Since he spoke to you at Funalis a few years ago." She smiled, "You look like him you know. Even more than Cailan does. It's why you can't be seen with them very often." She finally realized how upset she was making him.

"Ali, you are my good friend, because of who you are, not because of your parents. Nothing is going to change between us, ever. I just want you to be careful around the Arl, the Arlessa and the Sister. I don't think the Arlessa and the Sister know who you are, but I know they don't wish you well." She realized he was hearing all this for the first time.

"Ali, Loghain is watching over you. I shouldn't have said anything, I guess, but you should know to be careful around them. Sometimes Loghain and my father protect us too much. I think you need to know this. I don't want to hurt you, but Arl Eamon looks out for himself first. He may care for you in his way, but…just be careful, please."

"I will I guess. I never see the Arlessa or the Sister anymore anyway. Or the Arl very much. The Arms Master, the Guard Captain and Sister Maris all treat me well."

Lys smiled, "Well that can only be good, right? Loghain's plan works."

He grinned in agreement, as she linked her arm in his for the walk to the Castle.

* * *

Footnotes:

[6] bale of shorn wool compressed, wrapped and tied up for shipping in a standard size (about 350 lbs.)

 

[7] Cogs: single-masted vessels, clinker-built with steep sides and a flat bottom, making them easier to load and unload. High sides made them more difficult to board in a seafight, which may have made them safer from pirates. If used as military warships were fitted with towers fore and aft. (Wikipedia)  
[8] Caravels: Unlike the cog, it used a carvel method of construction. It could be either square rigged and lateen rigged or only lateen rigged  
[9] Hoys: A single-masted, fore-aft rigged sprit sail, vessel usually used as a coaster or on short sea routes.  
[10] Picard: a single-masted vessel of used mainly as support vessel for fishing fleets or as a lighter, loading from vessels at anchor and discharging onto beaches or shallow creeks.  
[11] Carrack: a larger vessel than the caravel with six sails, a bowsprit, foresail, mizzen, spritsail and two topsails. Fitted with high front and rear or only rear castle.

 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. If you have time, please review. Book 1 may be complete, but I'm working on Book 2.
> 
> After completing Brief Shining Moments, I re-read and edited the entire work. From Chapter 14 on I had the support of my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion which resulted in far fewer errors. Any remaining are mine alone. There may be a few tweaks to wording, but no content changes. 
> 
> I’ve received the support of many reviewers. Mike3207, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Caraine, clafoung, SnowHelm, katdancer2, dustywalker, Easternviolet, ElyssaCousland, Nymra, ChaoticHarmony1991, EveHawk, susyjohn, Judy, maradeux, DjinniGenie, Pollyanna24, Contess. Others have followed and favorited the story or posted kudos. Thanks to all of you.
> 
> I created some appendices with commissioned art, timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure.


	17. The Little Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summerday visit to Highever 9:20 Dragon 30 Cloudreach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden 

 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 17:  THE LITTLE BROTHER**

 

 

* * *

**9:20 Dragon   30 Cloudreach  ===  Islands in the Waking Sea, Highever**

As Lys and Alistair entered the small Hall near the kitchens, Fergus looked up from his plate of bread and cheese. "Nate and I plan to sail the Guillemot to the islands for a day of fishing. Would you like to join us?"

"I can't," Lys replied regretfully. "Mother and Arlessa Alys want Pippa and me to accompany them to the Cloth Guild today. We are hosting a small reception for several important Nevarran and Marcher merchants." She turned to Alistair, "You should go with Fergus and Nathaniel. Take your bow too. Lots of duck nest on the islands."

"Come with us Alistair," Fergus agreed. "You must have been out on Lake Calenhad sailing?"

"I have gone out a few times, although I'm no sailor. I won't be much help on the boat."

Nathaniel laughed, "Well, we can teach you today. Do come along."

Alistair looked at the older boys apprehensively, but saw only friendly smiles. "Alright. I should tell Teyrn Loghain where I'll be, but if I won't be a bother, I'll come."

"You should tell me what, Alistair?" Teyrn Loghain queried as he walked into the room.

"You won't be a bother Alistair. We enjoy your company." Fergus chided him and then turned to Teyrn Loghain. "Nathaniel and I invited Alistair to join us today, since Lys and Pippa will be entertaining merchants at the Cloth Guild. We're sailing out to the islands to fish and, apparently," he added, grinning at his sister, "hunt duck."

"I think that sounds like a fine adventure, Alistair," Loghain assured him. "And taking your bow is a good idea. Maybe you can give Fergus and Nathaniel some pointers."

Nathaniel grimaced and Fergus laughed. "I'm afraid I am hopeless with any kind of bow. Lys is the one in our family with Mum's talent." He turned to Nathaniel and Alistair. "Cook packed us a lunch, although," he smirked at Alistair, "I think I'll ask for more cheese. The fishing gear is in the boat shed. Alistair, just bring a cloak and your knife. It can get cool on the water and we'll need to clean the fish. Meet us in the baily and we'll head to the castle docks."

Fergus and Nathaniel left. Alistair looked at Lys. "You don't mind?" he asked quietly.

She smiled. "Ali, of course not. The reception isn't going to be much fun. I planned to ask if you wanted to stay here. It's important for Pippa and me, because we need to learn the business and meet the merchants, but it wouldn't be very interesting for you. Sailing will be much more fun. I'm envious, really."

"So, Fergus isn't just being a good host?"

Lys hesitated before answering. She frowned, as if deciding whether to speak out or not. She finally shook her head and spoke. "Sometimes I want to shake you and tell you not to be so stupid."

Alistair flinched at her tone.

"Ali, we love you. If we could, we'd bring you here to stay, but we can't. Please try to believe we care about you. You're here because we want you to be here and to have a good time. Fergus wouldn't ask you if he didn't want you along. He and Nate are good friends. They don't get to spend much time together. That they asked you to share it means they both like you a lot." She took his hand and kissed his cheek. "Go. They'll be waiting. Have fun. I'll see you at dinner."

Alistair stood and smiled hesitantly. "Thanks. It's just so different here…"

"I know. Just remember that. Highever is different. No Arl, no Orlesian, just people who care about you."

He grinned. "Right." Then he raced off to gather his things and meet Fergus.

Fergus poked his head into the room, "Is he coming?"

"Yes," Lys replied. "He just needed a little reassurance that you really wanted him to come."

Fergus shook his head. "Someone should ship the Orlesian back to Val Royeaux and send Eamon with her. We'll take good care of him today, little sister. He'll have a good day." He smirked, "Enjoy the merchants." He ducked and chuckled as Lys threw a biscuit at him.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

"I don't like it when I can't fix things," Lys complained to her mother. She had joined her in the solar with her spinning after the boys left.

"I know, my darling, but we can't always fix everything as we'd like."

Lys walked over to the solar door and closed it. As she returned to her spinning she said, "Mum, I know about the magic."

"How…?"

"I hid in Papa's study one night last year. I just planned to jump out and scare him, but he came in with someone. The Grey Warden, Duncan was here and they came in together and talked about Alistair."

"I see." Eleanor arched a delicate eyebrow

"Mum, Papa usually goes to his study alone. I was practicing my stealth. Sneaking in unseen and all. Any other night, it wouldn't have mattered."

"You're right, Lys, but now you know a secret only four people in Thedas know. Duncan, Papa, the king and me. You must not tell anyone, especially Alistair. It's a dangerous secret." Teyrna Eleanor spoke firmly.

"I know," she whispered. "I haven't. I won't."

"Have you told your Papa?"

"No! Only you. You never yell. Even when I'm awful. You and Aunt Liv always try to understand why I do stupid things. I know you get angry, but I'm not afraid to tell you stuff. Papa doesn't always yell, but he gets so disappointed in me."

"I'm glad, Lys. I'd hate it if you couldn't come to me with anything. I try to remember what it was like growing up. It's not easy, I do remember that." She hesitated, then added, "You know, if you ever feel as if you can't come to me, go to Aunt Liv. She'll keep your confidences if you ask. We love you Lys. You may think you're not perfect sometimes, but you are my perfect little girl and Papa's too. We are very proud of you."

"I try to be, Mum. I'm really lucky I have you all." She put down her spindle. "Mum, wouldn't it already have manifested? When the Orlesian whipped him?"

"Probably, but the king thinks it safer to wait a few more years. Papa and Maric have talked of him squiring here, once Maric acknowledges him at fourteen or fifteen."

"Five years! That's forever."

"Come here, Lys." Teyrna Eleanor patted the cushion next to her in the window embrasure then held out her arm. Lys curled up next to her, as Eleanor hugged her and smoothed back her hair.

"I really like him Mum. I miss him as much as I would miss you or Papa or Fergus if you left."

"I know you do, my darling. I do too." Eleanor kissed her brow. "He's a very special little boy. And not because of his father. It's sad he has to endure what must still be a lonely time in Redcliffe, but we can't do anything more than we have. His life is so much better thanks to you. I think there will be more visits. It won't be two years again. He's proven himself in his studies, his work and his training. Your Papa and Teyrn Loghain tell King Maric how impressed they are. I suspect Cailan does too. It will work out, Lyssie. Have faith."

"I'll try Mum, but I'm not very patient."

Teyrna Eleanor laughed. "No, it's not your strongest quality, sweetling. Maybe this will teach you."

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Castle Cousland impressed Alistair. Higheverport lay below the Castle outcrop to the east. The Coast Road, from Higheverport, ran past the Bann's Keep, which stood next to the western wall near the West Gate. The road continued northwest to run past the Castle Gate. A few homes and businesses, most serving the needs of the Keep and Castle, were scattered along the main road. Castle Cousland itself sat on its craggy outcrop, with sheer drops on three sides. Looking back from the path to the docks, the Coast Range and forested foothills to the south formed a backdrop for the ancient castle. To the west, Castle Cousland overlooked rolling fields where sheep and horses grazed. To the north, the outcrop overlooked the coastal cliffs and the Waking Sea that seemed to stretch on into eternity.

The outer Castle wall on the north side extended up from the outcrop that dropped steeply to the open land below. An inner wall rose behind the northern battlements to enclose the Teyrna's garden, which extended beyond the stable and Practice Yard on the east side. From this garden wall, a small gatehouse marked the top of a stone stairway. The enclosed stairway dropped to the outer wall terrace and the entrance to the postern gate. From the postern, a rough, narrow path traversed the cliff face to the field below.

In the unlikely event that an enemy made it up the cliff face and broke through the small postern gatehouse, the narrow twisting stairway opening into the small upper gatehouse could be defended. Castle Guards stood in both the upper gatehouse and the postern gatehouse. Castle Cousland, for all its comfort, was a defensible guardian of the Teyrnir. Only Redcliffe Castle, which had fallen once, was more defensible. treachery and betrayal, however, can defeat any defense.

The boys exited the postern gate, climbed down the cliff path and followed a well-worn trail to the cliffs overlooking the Waking Sea and Castle Dock. Another narrow path traversed the seaside cliff leading down to the dock. The short dock extended from the beach into a small inlet. A shack stood back from the shore, holding the fishing and sailing gear. Fergus retrieved fishing poles and other gear as they passed.

A shallop[12] was grounded on the beach.  Guillemot was written across its stern and on the bow.  Fitted with a rudder and a sail, it was seaworthy enough to proceed to the islands just offshore, but its shallow draft and oars allowed it to maneuver into inlets, rivers and coves. Fergus and Nate were both experienced sailors.

"Would you like to crew or just ride along?" Fergus asked Alistair.

"Crew, if you'll let me. I don't like to just sit."

Fergus grinned, "Crew it is. I'm Captain, Nate is my mate and you are the sailor. Just do as we instruct; we'll explain as we go. If you have a question, ask. It's a beautiful day, with a brisk steady wind…we should have a pleasant sail to the islands."

"You may not have seen a boat like this in Redcliffe. It's a gunter rigged boat[13] ." Fergus explained. "You can see the mast lying in the bottom there. It is short and easily stepped into its slot. Once it's stepped, that second piece, called the gaff, swings up to extend the mast and allow a larger sail. Why don't you watch, then come aboard when we finish."

Nate jumped out once the mast was stepped and the gaff raised. He motioned to Alistair to board. Once he did, Nate pushed off from the beach and climbed in. He and Alistair each grabbed an oar to move out into less protected water where they could raise the sail and catch the wind, while Fergus sat at the tiller and steered,.

Fergus and Nate explained the simple rigging to Alistair, teaching him the sailing terms he would need to crew. By the time they got to the islands he had a basic understanding of how and why to tack and how to trim the sail to catch the wind. He had also spent some time at the tiller. Both Fergus and Nate had sailed since they were very young and were good sailors. They were also good teachers. Fergus had even taught Lys to sail, which was a challenge, as she was prone to overconfidence. Overconfidence on the water could be dangerous, but on this day, the weather cooperated, Alistair was an apt student and they reached the islands with no incidents.

Being with two older boys, without Lys, was a new and pleasing experience for Alistair. The mood was relaxed and friendly. Fergus and Nate treated Alistair as an equal, if younger, less experienced, friend or, perhaps, younger brother or cousin. Looking back on the day, he would realize he hadn't felt stupid, uncomfortable or embarrassed for a whole day. He had only ever felt that comfortable with Lys; it was nice to find he could feel that way when she wasn't there.

As they approached the islands, Fergus announced that they would fish before landing, as it was still early in the day. The fishing lines and bait were in the boat. Fergus let out the anchor while Nate lowered and furled the sail. He handed Alistair a pole and the three boys settled in to catch their dinner.

Fergus and Nate chatted quietly about their plans after the Tourney.

"I'll be going to Antiva and Rivain with Da," Fergus announced, "after the Tourney ends. Da will negotiate trade agreements for both Highever and Ferelden while we're there." He sounded both excited and apprehensive as he added, "He expects me to participate, not just observe, this time, in the Highever trade negotiations. I'll keep quiet when he's with the high officials negotiating for the king, of course."

"So, will you see that certain person you liked so much that last time you visited Antiva?" Nate asked with a wicked grin.

"I hope so," Fergus replied knowing Nate referred to a particular young Antivan woman who had caught his eye on a previous trip two years before.

"I look forward to squiring for Arl Bryland." Nathaniel said. "I'll get away from Amaranthine. It will be a relief to be free of father's governance and disapproval." Nathaniel's brief stays in Highever had created a thirst for emancipation from the grim regime of Vigil's Keep. While he would have preferred to squire under Teyrn Cousland or Arl Broughten, Arl Bryland was a good man and South Reach had the benefit of being a long way from Amaranthine and Denerim.

"I'll leave from here after the Tourney and travel with Arl Bryland's household to South Reach. I'll miss Delilah, but not much else about the Vigil."

"Will you become a knight then?" Alistair enquired.

"I hope to," Nate answered. "I'll retain my proficiency with the bow, but I've become good with dual weapons as well. It seems a good pairing. How about you Alistair, have you become a page to the Arl?"

Alistair shook his head no. "I don't expect to become anything more than a trooper. Perhaps I'll serve in the Arl's Guard, but more likely in the village Guard."

Fergus frowned. "Has the Arl told you that, Alistair?"

"No. No one tells anything beyond the orders for the day. Go to school, train and then work in the Armory. Sometimes I still help the Stable Master. I enjoy working with the horses. I've been training some of the colts," he proudly added.

"Well, your martial training is a success," Nate chuckled. "Lys is good and you certainly put her in her place."

Fergus smirked, "And you, with his bow."

"Too right," Nate conceded. "Although I think we should have a rematch before we leave, Alistair. I'd like the opportunity to sooth my pride if you will indulge me." He smirked. "We don't have to hunt duck. In her mind, Lys may be My Lady Who Must be Obeyed, but we don't have to if she's not here to bully us. We can shoot this afternoon, when we get back."

"You're challenging me?" Alistair squeaked. "I've never been challenged before."

"Relax, it's a friendly challenge. Do you agree?"

"Umm… sure. Just you and me?"

"Just you and me."

Alistair grinned, "Done."

"Well, since it's just the two of you and I am a neutral party, how about on the island once we land? We don't have to wait."

Both boys looked up, surprised. "Why not?" Nate responded. "He is neutral, Alistair. Fergus can hit the broad side of a stable at seventy paces, but not much else. He's hopeless on a hunt, unless it's with spears."

"Sounds fine to me," Alistair chuckled.

"Alistair," Fergus began, but was interrupted by a tug on his line. He eventually, with Nate's help, pulled in a good-sized striped bass, which went into the barrel at the base of the mast. Alistair, meantime, pulled in a smaller flounder on his own.

"Were you going to ask me a question, Fergus?" Alistair enquired.

"Umm...oh yes, I wondered if you went to the Funalis Tourney last year. I was sorry to miss it."

"I did. Teyrn Loghain took me with him to watch the Vespers Elimination Duel after the Invocation Ceremony. We also went to the Melee and final ceremonies.

"I'd hoped to compete in the Vespers last year," Fergus said regretfully. "Well, I'll be in the one tomorrow at least."

"Unless we drown on the way back," Nate chortled.

"If we drown, we won't care will we," Alistair observed.

Nate and Fergus laughed, "You're right, Alistair," Fergus agreed. "So, at Funalis, did you see any other events?"

"No, but Prince Cailan asked that I take him on a tour of the Armory. That was an honor." Alistair said very quietly. "Nate, came along."

Fergus looked at Nate. "You did?"

"You weren't there. I seemed to be Cailan's second choice for a companion."

"That's not a bad thing," Fergus commented.

"You wouldn't think so, but my father was not pleased." Nathaniel grimaced.

"You and Cailan seemed to get along well," Alistair commented.

"We do. It's my father I don't always get along with."

"Oh." It hadn't occurred to Alistair that having a family could be problematic. He wondered how it would feel to have father like Arl Howe, who never seemed to approve of anything Nathaniel did. He didn't understand what caused the disappointment. Nate seemed bright, talented and personable.

"Alistair, tell Fergus about your sparring match."

"What! Oh, that. Prince Cailan asked me to spar with him. He even used sword and shield, instead of his long sword. I lost, but not right away."

"Cailan thought he'd go easy on the 'little guy'." Nate laughed. "He told Alistair to give it all he had. Alistair almost had him on his arse with his shield bash."

Fergus chuckled, "I'd love to have seen that. Cailan can be an arrogant ass at times."

"Loghain laughed pretty hard. The King wasn't there, but Loghain came down to check on Ali I think. Cailan was embarrassed. But to his credit he didn't take it out on Alistair, just started sparring better."

Alistair was blushing by this time. "He was good to me. He was interested in the Armory and asked lots of good questions about how we care for the armor, supply the men and all. And he beat me fairly."

"Cailan did say he enjoyed your company when I spoke with him at Satinalia. He said you sparred and did well, but didn't mention how well."

Alistair's eyes widened. "He remembered me?"

"He did. He knows who you are." Fergus smiled. "He'll likely ask to see you the next time he visits Redcliffe."

Alistair sat quietly, taking in the meaning of Fergus' comment. He was pretty sure Nate didn't understand, but he was also sure Fergus knew Cailan was his half-brother and apparently, Cailan had spoken to Fergus about it. He didn't know whether to be pleased or apprehensive about that. He knew it explained why he was included as Cailan's page on the trip to the McCorkel farmhold.

"Well, I guess Prince Cailan did like me. After the Tourney, he had to visit one of Teagan's farmholds to learn about the apple harvest. He, um, asked for me to go along as his page."

Fergus' eyebrows raised and Nate looked taken aback. "I didn't know that," said Nate.

"Well, you were gone by then, Nate. Only the King, Prince Cailan and Teyrn Loghain were still at the Castle. Teyrn Loghain and Prince Cailan were to accompany Teagan as far as the farmhold, visit for a few days, then return to Redcliffe while Teagan went home to Rainesfere. Prince Cailan suggested I come along. It, um, well the Teyrn and Teagan liked the idea I guess, but-

"-I'll bet the Arlessa was spitting fire and the Arl was huffing about trying to say no to Cailan without getting into trouble." Fergus was laughing now.

"Well, I wasn't there, but something like that happened." Alistair grinned shyly. "Teyrn Loghain spoke to the Arms Master and Guard Captain, saying the Prince wanted me along. They gave me the time off." He shrugged. "And I went. So the Arl must have given in."

"I bet Teagan wasn't upset." Nate suggested.

"No, once we left, everyone was very congenial."

"Did Cailan work you hard?" Fergus asked.

Alistair frowned, "No, I took care of his weapons and armor and his horse and tack. I was busy, but I was with him all the time. It was nice. I even slept in his tent. I wouldn't mind being a page I think."

"Well, be careful what you wish for," Nate warned. "Not all lords are kind."

"I suppose not," Alistair conceded. "But Prince Cailan was kind to me."

Deciding to change the subject, Fergus asked, "So, did Cailan enjoy the farmhold? Did you have good cider?"

"We did, both hard and sweet. And cheese," he grinned. "Nothing better than cheese, apples, bread and hard cider, Prince Cailan said. He likes all kinds of cheese too."

"I'll bet he does," Nate chortled, "particularly the hard cider part. Did you help with the harvest?"

"We did. Prince Cailan picked apples the second morning we were there. He picked from the ladder and tossed them to me to put in the basket. We were a good team, he said."

"I'm sure you were," Fergus agreed and then grabbed Alistair's hands to steady his pole. "You've got a big one on there, Ali." Between then they pulled in another striped bass. By this time they had several bass and flounder in the barrel.

"I think it's time we beached the boat and had our meal. We've a pretty good catch." Fergus proceeded to pull up the anchor and took up an oar. Nathaniel handled the other oar. Ali sat in the stern at the tiller. The boys rowed the boat onto the beach of a small inlet. Fergus jumped out and pulled it up to ground it well. The tide was receding. They would venture out again when it came back in.

Fergus set Alistair the tasks of finding wood and starting a fire, while he and Nate cleaned the fish. He was surprised when Ali quickly had a good fire going.

"I'll get more wood," Alistair yelled over his shoulder as he headed off into the woodland that bordered the beach.

Nathaniel watched him go, then yelled, "Don't go in too far, Alistair, it's easy to get lost in the underbrush. There are no trails here." Alistair waved in acknowledgement and Nate saw him moving parallel to the beach in his search for more wood. He turned to Fergus, "He's such a pleasant boy. If only Thomas were half that companionable."

Fergus snorted, "That's a wish unlikely to come true. But you're right he is a good companion."

"He's Cailan's half-brother isn't he? He looks like a Theirin."

"I don't know that, Nate."

"Don't worry, I won't mention it to my father. It's why Loghain pays him so much attention though, right? My father does wonder about that. I wonder if King Maric will acknowledge him? They must be thinking about it if he allows Cailan to spend time with him."

"I don't know, Nate. You're speculating."

"Am I? Sometimes I forget you're grown up and above such things."

"Right, that's me. The adult on the beach." Fergus chuckled, and then gave Nate a serious stare. "I would worry about his safety, if that kind of speculation spread. Look, just enjoy the day. We don't get many like this anymore. Or at least I don't, being grown up," he added wryly.

He threaded the flounder filets onto green branches to place over the fire when Ali returned. The fire was almost ready and the filets would cook quickly. The striped bass, they cut into chunks and set aside. The pot for the fish stew was heating up with bacon cooking on the bottom. Nate put the cut up parsnips and fennel in with the bacon and stirred until the vegetables browned. He added water, some herbs and then left the vegetables to simmer for a while.

Fergus pulled out the rest of the supplies. Some bread, some pasties – in case they didn't catch any fish he supposed – and some cheese. They also had two skins of wine and one of sweet cider. The island had a spring, if they wanted fresh water. And berry tarts, his personal favorite, along with honey cakes.

"I think I'll see what's keeping Alistair," he told Nate. "I'm hungry. He can find more wood later." As he spoke, Alistair staggered out of the woods with a very large load of branches. "Whoa, Ali, how long do you think we are staying?," he laughed.

Alistair reddened. "Well, there was a lot in one area. Guess you can stack it for next time you come?"

"We can indeed. Thank you. Now, are you hungry?"

"Starving."

"Good, grab a stick with flounder and hold it over the coals. It won't take long to cook through."

The boys ate the flounder first, while the stew simmered. Fergus suggested they hold the archery competition while the vegetables cooked a bit more. He walked along the beach to find a likely tree he could make the target. He didn't expect either Alistair or Nathaniel to miss very often, but he wanted the forest behind clear enough to retrieve any arrows.

Alistair and Nathaniel strung their bows, readied for the contest and then walked down the beach to where Fergus waited. He'd marked lines at 50 and 70 paces from the tree. Alistair was smaller than Nathaniel, so he would stand closer. Fergus had placed a mark on the tree for the boys to target. Fergus pulled out a coin.

"Alistair. King Maric or Mabari?" Fergus asked as he tossed the coin with King Maric's image on one side and the Ferelden's two mabari's rampant on the obverse.

"Mabari."

Fergus caught the coin. "Mabari it is. Will you go first or will Nate?"

"Nate will go first."

Nate moved to the back line at 70 paces. He looked at Fergus, "Are you sure this difference is not too much? Alistair is almost as tall as I am. I just want to point that out before I shoot."

"Worried Nate?" Alistair teased. "Tell you what, we'll both shoot from both distances. How about three arrows from each mark?"

Nate looked at him. "You sure?"

"Sure. I can win from either distance," Alistair smirked.

Fergus laughed. "Satisfied Nate?"

Nate groaned and shook his head. "I'll learn to keep my mouth shut someday."

"Clearly not today," Alistair gibed.

Nate stepped forward to the 50 pace line and shot three arrows. He placed all three in the tree. One in the target, one slightly above and one slightly below. Alistair stepped up and placed two in the target and one slightly above Nate's upper arrow.

The boys moved back to the 70 pace line. Nate went first again. Again, he placed one arrow in the target and two slightly above. Alistair stepped up and shot. Again he placed two in the target and the third just below.

He turned to Nate and Fergus grinning. "I still keep up the bow practice. I may focus on sword and shield, but I like the bow. I'd like to hunt someday I think."

Fergus laughed, "It's that eyesight. It's the same with Lys. She sees things no one else does. She's the first to see a ship coming in. The first to see game when we hunt. You're just like her."

"Well, not exactly like her," Alistair protested. "There's at least one difference." Fergus wasn't sure where a ten year old was going with that remark so he stayed silent. Nate snorted, trying to stifle a laugh.

"Ears. I hear better too."

Nate laughed, remembering the mounted archery lessons, "We accused him of being an elf the other day."

"Most elves would be insulted by that I imagine." Alistair said, as he walked to the tree to collect the arrows and brought Nate's back to him. "At least we both hit the tree. Searching through that underbrush for arrows wouldn't be pleasant." He looked at Nate uncertainly, "You're not too angry at me are you?"

Nate looked up from unstringing his bow, "Angry? Of course not. It was a fair contest and you won. I'm annoyed at myself for not shooting better, but not at you." He looked perplexed. "Alistair, you're a very good archer. Someday you'll be winning tourneys. You have height, strength and excellent form. Just keep practicing."

Fergus put his arm around Alistair's shoulder, "Come on, little brother, you can unstring your bow at the boat. I'm still hungry and we should check the stew."

"Little brother?"

"Well, Lys says you're her other brother, only better, so that makes you my little brother, right?"

"I…I guess."

Aroma from the simmering stew drew them back to the fire. Alistair pulled out the bowls, spoons and bread from the pack and served the two older boys. Fergus watched him thinking he should be a page to Teagan if the Arl didn't want him. In addition, from what he knew of the Arlessa, being a page at Redcliffe would certainly be unpleasant for anyone. Fergus settled back to enjoy the remaining sun, as Nate explained the benefits of different types of fletching to Alistair. Eventually, they gathered up their things, doused the fire thoroughly and set sail for the Castle Dock. Seeing Alistair's contented smile as he held the tiller on the way back, Fergus wondered how he adjusted to these brief moments of happiness interspersed with what must be a lonely life at Redcliffe.

 

[11] Shallop: A small open boat fitted with oars or sails, or both, and used primarily in shallow waters.

[12]Gunter: a rig designed for smaller boats where the mast is often taken down. It consists of a relatively short mast and a long gaff. However, rather than the usual trapezoidal shape of a gaff sail, it is triangular. This allows the gaff, when hoist, to pivot upwards until it is vertical, effectively forming an extension to the mast. Thus a decent-sized sailing rig can be added to the boat while still allowing all the equipment to be stowed completely inside it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. If you have time, please review. Book 1 may be complete, but I'm working on Book 2.
> 
> After completing Brief Shining Moments, I re-read and edited the entire work. From Chapter 14 on I had the support of my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion which resulted in far fewer errors. Any remaining are mine alone. There may be a few tweaks to wording, but no content changes. 
> 
> I’ve received the support of many reviewers. Mike3207, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Caraine, clafoung, SnowHelm, katdancer2, dustywalker, Easternviolet, ElyssaCousland, Nymra, ChaoticHarmony1991, EveHawk, susyjohn, Judy, maradeux, DjinniGenie, Pollyanna24, Contess. Others have followed and favorited the story or posted kudos. Thanks to all of you.
> 
> I created some appendices with commissioned art, timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure.


	18. The Best Summerday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summerday Fest 9:20 Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”   
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

 **Chapter 18– THE BEST SUMMERDAY**  

 

* * *

**9:20 Dragon   Summerday  ===  Castle Cousland, Highever**

Observed throughout Thedas, Summerday celebrated comings of age, betrothals and weddings.  Not to be ignored, the Chantry put a serious veneer on the fun.  Orlesians celebrated Summerday as a solemn holiday, not so in Ferelden.  Highever held the traditional Coming of Age procession to the Chantry, ending with the Revered Mother advising the young people on the responsibilities of adulthood.  Following this brief, serious sermon, joyful weddings and betrothal ceremonies took place.  During the festivities young men and women who had come of age since the last Summerday had the opportunity to mingle and, perhaps, match.  Fereldan’s considered marrying on Summerday good luck and vied with each other to schedule their weddings on or as near the day as possible. 

In Higheverport, and particularly at Castle Cousland, Summerday was a day for the nobility and common folk to gather and celebrate the weddings and betrothals following the Chantry services.  Once Summerday services concluded, the betrothed and married couples and their families paraded through Higheverport, in their finery, to Castle Cousland and the Summerday supper.  House Cousland provided the wedding and betrothal supper for all couples wed or betrothed that day or in the week before. 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“Lys?”  Pippa tapped her on the shoulder and Lys looked up, confused, from her perch on the seaward facing garden wall.  “You’ve been sitting here like a statue forever.  I’ve been saying your name, but you don’t respond.  What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Lys responded brightly.

“Lys, this is me.  What’s wrong?  Where’s Alistair?”

“Oh, Ali went off with Fergus and Nathaniel to get more to eat.  I think Nate wanted to get away from the Arl.”

“That’s understandable.  So, you and Alistair didn’t have a fight or anything?”

“No, no we’re fine.  It’s wonderful to have him here.”

“…but?”

“Nothing, I’m fine really.  Just lost in thought for a moment.”

Pippa looked skeptical, but decided to let it go.  Lys could be the most stubbornly secretive girl when she chose to be.

“The ceremonies were lovely weren’t they?  It’s a perfect day for betrothals and weddings.  It’s so awful when it’s rainy and everyone crowds into the Chantry in damp clothes.”

Pippa nodded in agreement looking unhappy herself.  Lys, stood and linked her arm through Philippa’s and steered her towards her Mum’s favorite bench beneath a large beech tree. 

“Pippa, did you father speak to Arl Howe?”

“Not yet.  He hasn’t said, but I don’t think he’s optimistic.”  She hesitated.  Her father’s Arling of Higheverport, while wealthy, only encompassed the port city itself.  Unlike Amaranthine, no banns pledged to her father.  Only three arlings, Amaranthine, South Reach and Redcliffe, in all of Ferelden, had banns pledged to the Arl.  King Maric proposed changing that, in order to elevate the arls he wished to reward, but it had not garnered Landsmeet approval yet.  “An alliance with Higheverport is not that beneficial to the Howes.  They already have a port in Amaranthine.  He thinks Howe will want a better alliance.”

“With whom?  Habren?  That’s an exchange of equals.  It’s not as if Habren inherits.  She has a brother.  There is no better alliance.  A few banns daughters here and there, but none with any land.”

“Well, Nathaniel is squiring at South Reach.”

“True.”

“And there’s you.”

“Me?  No, no.  He’s trying to marry Delilah to Fergus, not me to Nathaniel.  Besides, I’d say no.  Nathaniel’s a good friend, of course, but no more.  No worries here, Pip.  Afterall, my marriage portion is a small bann in western Highever, Long’s Reach.  Nothing to interest Arl Howe.”  She sat on the bench, straightening her dress, “I offer little beyond a connection to the Teyrn…and my beauty and personality, of course.” 

“You are beautiful, Lys, but there is the personality issue.”

“Right, besting a betrothed in the practice yard would not bode well.  Nor would my desire to work for Cousin Samuel, but then I don’t expect to marry.”

“What?  I thought…?”

“I told you, his father won’t acknowledge him.  Mum and Papa like him, but I doubt they will bless a marriage that would anger his father.  It’s complicated.”

Pippa considered her friend.  Obviously, Alistair’s father was important.  She did not go to Denerim or other noble establishments often, so didn’t know as many nobles as Lys did.  Alistair did remind her of someone, but she had not been able to place the resemblance. 

 “Maybe we should just go to Areth.  We could marry anyone we like there and do whatever we want.”

“It has occurred to me.”

“Truly?  Mistress Ferelden of 9:20 Dragon would leave Thedas?”

“I don’t know Pippa.  Andraste’s Flaming Spindle, I’m ten and you’re eleven, we shouldn’t even have to think about this.  No girl in Areth does at our age, but here if we’re not betrothed by twelve or, at worst fourteen, we already spinsters.”

“That’s what’s bothering you isn’t it.  You want Alistair and you don’t think it will work out?”

“Yes, but it’s as bad for you.  The reasons may be different, but it’s still awful.” 

“I guess we’ll both be single career women.”

Lys smiled sadly, “So it would seem.”  She drew in a deep breath.  “I’m sorry, it’s the day.  It reminded me of things I try not to think about.  I should just enjoy Ali while he’s here.”

“I don’t blame you.  It’s not a happy day for everyone.”

A voice behind them called out, “There you both are.  You’ve been hiding.”

Lys smiled, “Hello, Teyrn Loghain.  We just wanted to escape the crowds for a while.  It’s quiet here, since Mum keeps these gardens private.”

“As usual, your family hosts a fine celebration, but the newly wed and betrothed can be overly exuberant company.”

“Most that marry or plight their troth today are the happy pairings, Teyrn Loghain, not reluctant or forced ones.”

“True.  This isn’t affecting either of you yet, however, so why the somber faces?”

“Of course it is, Teyrn Loghain, most girls become betrothed no later than twelve or thirteen.  That’s only a year away for Philippa and two for me.  Anora and Cailan were betrothed at what?  Five and two?  Of course, Mum and Papa told me I would not have to marry if I didn’t choose to, so I suppose it will be a happy occasion, if it ever happens for me.”

Loghain frowned, “What do you mean if?”

“I’m picky, I suppose.  I may not find anyone I want to marry.”

Loghain studied her for a moment.  “It will work out Lys.  You will marry where you chose.”

“I…hope so, Your Grace.  I wish I was so sure.”

“I have it on good authority, Lady Cousland.  Now, may I escort you two young ladies to the festivities.  An old man rarely gets the opportunity to show off two beauties on his arm.”

Pippa blushed and whispered, “I didn’t know His Grace could be so gallant.”

“I heard that, Lady Philippa.  My hearing is still good.”  Pippa colored further as Lys giggled.  “King Maric, most gallant of monarchs, trained me well.  Now shall we go?”

“Yes, Your Grace, we accept.”  Pippa replied.

Loghain offered  each girl an arm and the three proceeded to leave the quiet garden to join the throngs on the castle lawns.  “You will not, of course, eat honey cakes, Lady Cousland.”

“Oh, that is a low blow, Teyrn Loghain.  Reminding me of my shame in the place it occurred.”

“Is this the infamous Honey Cake Incident?”  Pippa smirked.

“Yes, but I will have some today.”

Loghain laughed, “Well if you two ladies will sit here, I will procure the cakes and some punch.”  He regarded Lys, “Sweet punch, well watered, I think.”

Lys laughed and stuck her tongue out.  “Ah, there’s the Lys I know and love,” Loghain chortled as he went to the refreshment table.

Pippa giggled, “I always think there must be two Teyrn Loghain’s.  The Teyrn Loghain who talks to you and the somber, serious Hero of River Dane who doesn’t talk to anyone else.”

“Oh, Pippa, Teyrn Loghain talks that way to others.  He’s the same with King Maric, Alistair, my family and Anora.”

“Not a very long list, Lys.”

“True.  I forget how…taciturn, he can be.  He does not tolerate fools easily.”

“You don’t mind if I join you?” said Delilah Howe as she sat down in the third chair.

“No, Delilah, of course not.  It’s good to see you today.  The services were lovely this morning, weren’t they?”

“Not really.  Well, yes, but I’d hoped my betrothal might be announced as well.” 

Pippa and Lys exchanged glances.  “I’m sorry, Delilah.  You sound disappointed.”  Pippa sympathized.

“Well, of course I’m disappointed.  I’d hoped Teyrn Cousland and my Papa would come to an agreement before today, so my betrothal to Fergus could be announced.  Papa may not show it, but he’s furious.  I only hope he doesn’t blame me.”

“Delilah, I’m sure you are not to blame,” Pippa said.

“I am if Fergus dislikes me.  I must have offended him somehow.”

“Delilah, Fergus doesn’t dislike you, but our parents will allow us to choose our marriage partners, not be committed to a betrothal arranged by parents and family.  Fergus isn’t ready to marry yet.”

“Papa said as much.  He finds it a foolish and dangerous practice, if you must know.  He…well I’ve said too much already I think.”

“My Ladies, honey cakes and cider,” Teyrn Loghain said as he returned to the table.  “Ah, Lady Howe, please take my cup.  If My Lady Cousland limits her appetite for honey cakes, I’m sure the plate will serve us all.”  Loghain turned to a server and requested a mug of ale.

“Teyrn Loghain, you’re picking on me today.”

“I am, Lys, and I apologize.  I’ll behave better.”  Loghain replied as he sat with the three young women.  “Lady Howe, I tried to find your brother earlier.”

“Nathaniel, Teyrn Mac Tir?”

“Yes, that’s right,  you do have a younger brother, too.  Thomas isn’t it?”

Delilah nodded in confirmation.  “Nathaniel went off with some common boy to the Cliffs, I think.  I don’t know why.  Father’s quite angry with him.”

“Common boy?  He’s with our guest, Alistair.”

“Well, whoever he is, Father doesn’t want Nathaniel to spend time with him.  Father says he a worthless bastard ward of the Arl of Redcliffe who shouldn’t be allowed to associate with the nobility.”

Lys bit her lip, trying not to snap angrily at Delilah.  Pippa kept silent, staring at the cup in her hands.

“Actually, Delilah, I brought Alistair with me.  I happen to disagree with your father’s opinion.  So perhaps we should agree to avoid the topic and move on to happier subjects.”

Lys gave Loghain a grateful smile.

Delilah frowned and stood.  “I should join Father I think.  It’s been pleasant to talk with you Lady Philippa, Teyrn Mac Tir.  Please tell your mother this is a lovely celebration, Lady Melysande.”  Delilah strode off.

“Thank you, Teyrn Loghain.  I had to try very hard not to yell at her.  I know she only repeats her father’s views.”

“We used to enjoy Delilah’s visits, but now she only repeats the Arl’s views and complains that she’s not betrothed to Fergus,” Pippa added.

“To Fergus?  Howe wants to marry her to Fergus?”

“He proposed it to Papa, but Fergus wants no part of it.  He and Delilah have nothing in common and Fergus hates the Arl.  He won’t have him for a father-in-law.  Arl Howe was not pleased when Papa refused.”

“No, I imagine Howe wouldn’t be, but I don’t blame your father.  I suppose Fergus may marry as he chooses, as well?”

“Yes.  He won’t be forced into a match he doesn’t want.  Although, I think perhaps Papa claims the right to reject a match, should Fergus choose badly.”

**9:20 Dragon   Bloomingtide  ===  Highever**

The Tourney passed by quickly.  Easily accessed from The Free Marches, Nevarra and Antiva, Highever’s Summerday Tourney attracted knights from those countries, as well as Ferelden.  As usual, the Highever knights performed well.  A local archer won the papingo[15] contest.  Best of all, Fergus achieved second place in the Vespers Duel, as a squire.  His broadsword skills would continue to improve.  He could expect to win soon and, perhaps, achieve early knighthood at nineteen or twenty.

The absence of King Maric and Prince Cailan made the events slightly less formal.  All the fanfare attending the arrival and departure of royalty took time.  While some missed the chance to glimpse the King, most enjoyed the more relaxed atmosphere.  Lys, Pippa and Alistair attended some Tourney events, but not all.  They visited the Fair and walked the beaches seeking seashells, drift wood, fossils and polished stones.  They returned to town and visited the dye yards, boarded one of House Haris’ ships in the harbor and munched on grilled fish, fried fish, cider and honey cakes.

 _It’s a good thing he likes fish,_ Pippa thought. _It’s all Lys feeds him!_

One the day of the Melee and Closing Ceremony, Alistair joined Fergus, Teyrn Loghain and Teyrn Bryce at the Cousland pavillion.  Lys decided to remain at the Castle.  Taking her spinning and a book, she retreated to the garden to enjoy the warm, sunny weather.  She sat in her favorite spot on the wall looking out over the rolling open fields of Highever.  The wall had no crenellations here, as it formed a secondary barrier to the castle wall beyond.  It made a perfect point from which to view the fields as they rolled to the cliffs and the Waking Sea. 

Setting her spinning aside, she opened her book, but couldn’t settle.  Alistair would leave in two days.  Everyone assured her she would see him again in two months in Redcliffe, but last time they parted, it had been two years.  She could not quell the sense of foreboding at his departure.  _Stop, she scolded herself.  You’re ruining the rest of his visit with your silliness.  Enjoy him while he’s here._   She got up, gathered her things and returned to the castle.  Perhaps she should take a walk.  The Cliffs beckoned, offering the sounds of the surf, the seabirds and the wind.  The boys would not return from the Tourney Grounds until later in the day.

**9:20 Dragon   6 Bloomingtide  ===  Highever, on the Cliffs of Conobar**

 Lys jumped as a hand touched her shoulder.  “It’s just me Lys.  Fergus said I might find you here.”

“Fergus sometimes talks too much.”

“I’ll go.  I…” he hesitated, looking puzzled and hurt, before he walked away.  “Do you want to talk.  You’ve been-“

“-quiet.  So unlike me.  Not chattering,” she said, her tone unnaturally bitter.

“Well, yes, but not what I was going to say.  You’ve been avoiding me.  I wondered why?  Is it that I’m leaving in two days…or something else?”

“Both,” she whispered.  “I’d gotten used to letters, I guess.  I don’t want to get used to letters again.  I miss you.”

“I miss you too, but Funalis is only two months away.  Loghain said he’d try to invite me to Denerim for Satinalia.  We’ll see more of each other.”  He tried to sound optimistic, as if he believed in this happy future.  “We’ll be busy…with good things.  Lessons.  Training.  Friends.  You’re going to Nevarra with Pippa.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that.”

“Say what?”  He sat beside her at the cliff edge.

 “Good things.  Friends.”

“It’s true.  Once I went to the Chantry School, everyone started to play with me again.  Really, I think they were afraid of the Arl and Arlessa…or their parents were.  The grown-ups feared they would fall out of favor with the Arl if their children were friends with me.  Redclliffe is very small, really.  Anyway, it’s all good now.  You did that for me.  A few months will go quickly and we’ll see each other at Funalis.”

“I suppose.  I will be busy too.  It’s just….”

 “Just…?”    

“We’re young, Ali.  Things change all the time for us as we grow up.  Ever since all the weddings and betrothals at Summerday, Pippa's upset about whether she'll become betrothed.  She’s afraid Arl Howe won’t agree to a betrothal with Nathaniel.  She’s eleven and worried who she’ll marry.”

“Is that why you’re upset?  Have the Teyrn and Teyrna betrothed you to some one?”

“No.  I mean yes, I am upset that you’re leaving and no, I’m not betrothed.  Mum and Papa promised I would only marry if I wanted to.  It’s a Cousland tradition.  We only marry when and to whom we choose.  It’s something we take from…well what we believe.  We sometimes think differently than other Thedosians or Fereldans.”

“How?”

“We try to treat the elves and dwarves as equals.  We believe we should treat mages the same as everyone else.  That mages should be trained, but then left to be free mages, allowed to marry, have children and live like the rest of us.  We think everyone should  be educated.  We believe prosperity for all our people will make Highever a better place.  We think women should have the same rights as men.  That everyone should be able to own property and businesses.  We don’t always succeed in changing beliefs and practices, but we try.  It’s why Highever is different.”

“It’s certainly different, in a very good way, from Redcliffe,” Alistair agreed, then returned to the original topic.  “Do you want to marry?”

“To the right man, yes, but that may not be possible.  Even though Mum and Papa say I don’t have to marry, I’ll just disappoint them if I don’t.  It seems I always disappoint them.”

He stared at her, a plethora of questions running through his head.  “Lyssie, there are so many things…I don’t know…wrong with that statement.  I don’t believe your parents are disappointed in you.  If they say you don’t have to marry, they may be sad if you don’t, but why disappointed?  Why do you think that?  They always seem so proud of you.”

“I try to make them proud.  I succeed sometimes.  Other times I just embarrass them.  Papa, especially, gets disappointed.  Mum’s always telling me to be more considerate, that sometimes I’m too aloof or rude.  She’s right, I am, particularly if I dislike someone.” 

“I behave better here and in Nevarra, but in Denerim, with other noble children, I’m always in trouble.  Anora Mac Tir barely speaks to me.  Habren Bryland loves to pick on me; if I respond to her gibes, somehow it looks like the snooty Teyrn’s daughter is picking on the poor Arl’s girl.  I love Uncle Leonas and Aunt Siobhan, but Habren and I have never gotten along.  It’s a good thing I get along with Pippa and Delilah or I’d think I was hopeless at friendship, at least with other girls.  Then, again, Thomas Howe and Vaughn Kendall despise me.  I challenged Vaughn to a duel.”

“You what!”

She giggled a little.  “He and Thomas harassed some elven girls in the market.  They were shopping for their mistress, bothering no one.  I needed to distract Thomas and Vaughn so the girls could run away.  I figured challenging Thomas Howe would cause Papa trouble, so I challenged Vaughn Kendall.  The girls got away.

When Papa and Teyrn Loghain heard of it, from Arl Kendall of course, they set up a sparring match.  Then I beat him.  Papa did say I was smart not to challenge Thomas, but that it would have been better if I’d just called for help.”

“What did Teyrn Loghain say?” 

She smiled.  “That I did well.”

“I think so too.”

She sighed.  “Anora dislikes me too.  I don’t even know why.  Unless she thinks her father spends too much time with me.  Perhaps she’s jealous, which is silly.  She likes Mum.  I try to get along with her, but she says a few polite words then walks away.”

“Did you talk to the Teyrn?”

“No.  I can’t talk about his daughter with him.  If he wants to speak with me, he will.”  They sat quietly for a while looking out over the sea.  Gulls and other seabirds arced through the air.  A ship sailed in the distance.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly.  “I’m whining about stupid things.  I wouldn’t know a real problem if it bashed me.”

“What?”

“Ali, I’m a noble.  I have wealth, prestige, family, friends…I have nothing to complain about.  I’m sorry.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re complaining.  Do you tell me nobles don’t have problems?  I think having to marry someone you don’t care about or not marry someone you do is a problem.”

“Well, perhaps.  I told Mum I would never marry some bann from the back of beyond, unless I loved him very much.  That’s when she and Papa said I wouldn’t have to.”

“So you won’t marry Teagan?” 

“Bann Teagan?  No.  He hasn’t… he is so…well girls do marry men that much older, but I wouldn’t want to.  He’s nice, but no.”  She looked at Alistair accusingly.  “You’re teasing me.”

“Guilty,” he grinned.

“You know, I’d marry you, even if we had to run away.”

“Is that a proposal?”

“Would you agree?”

“You do this, you know.”

“What?”

“Answer a question with a question.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

“I’m a common born bastard.”

“That’s not an answer.  It doesn’t’ matter to me, but your father could acknowledge you.”

“And that would make me?”

“A royal bastard?”  Alistair laughed, as Lys continued.  “A bastard prince?  My prince?”

“Wait.  What!  A prince?  Lys!”

“Well, the son of a king is usually a prince, yes?”

“Not me.  I’m a common born bastard and will always be such.  Perhaps I will become a knight, if I work hard and deserve it, but not a noble.  Not even a bann.  That’s…it won’t happen, Lys.  That’s been made very clear to me.”

“By whom?”

“Arl Eamon.”

“Not Loghain or…your father?”

“No.”

“You’re wrong.  It could.  Nobles do acknowledge illegitimate children and sometimes give them titles.  I wouldn’t care if it we lived in the Wilds or the Frostbacks or the Brecilian.  Or we could go to Nevarra and work with Cousin Samuel at House Haris or join the Haris mercenary company.”

“I thought you said no bann from the back of beyond?”

I _said_ only if I loved him.”

“You have this all planned?”

“For me, I do.  It’s what I plan to do, alone if I must.  Apprentice to Cousin Simon, learn to be a merchant or a banker.  I’ll become his second and maybe run House Haris one day.  If that doesn’t work, I’ll join the Wrath.”

“The Wrath?”

“Hrothgar’s Wrath, House Haris’ mercenary company.  Hrothgar was the founder of House Haris in Nevarra generations ago.  So, when the House started the mercenary company to guard their caravans, they named it Hrothgar’s Wrath.  I train with them when I go to Nevarra with Mum.  Aleksi, the Captain, said he’d take me anytime.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“My answer would be yes.  I can’t really betroth myself to cheese, so, since I like you almost as much as I like cheese, you’ll have to do.”

She laughed.  “Alistair that is the most unromantic proposal acceptance in the history of Thedas.  You like cheese better than me?”

“No, but you’re laughing and the answer is still yes.”

“You know, only you and Mum ever see me like this.”

“Laughing?  Proposing to royal bastards?”

“No, well yes to the proposing part.  No, I mean unsure of myself.  I always think I need to be sure and perfect.  I do stupid things when I get emotional or passionate and act impulsively.”

“Like saving common bastards from Orlesians?”

“That wasn’t stupid.”

“Saving elven girls from nasty nobles?”

“Yes.  There were better ways.”

“What were they?  You should decide, so next time you’ll use the better ways.”

“You sound like Teyrn Loghain.  I could have called the guard.  I could have ordered the girls to do something for me to get them away.”

“Would either have worked?”

“Calling the guard might have, if I told them who I was.  I outrank both boys, but maybe not, if the guard hated elves too.”

“So you did choose the best option.”

“Maybe.”

“And you whipped his arse?”

“Definitely,” she smirked.  “He and Thomas are nasty.  Thomas is like his father.  Nate and Delilah, I don’t know who they are like, but they are not like the Arl.  Their mum is always sick, so I don’t know her.  I guess they must be more like her.  I don’t know why Papa trusts that man.”

“I like Nate.  He didn’t get mad at me when I beat him on the island.”

“You beat him again when you went sailing?  You didn’t tell me.”

“Yup, I’m that good.”  He grinned, then frowned.  “I’m gloating.  I didn’t want to brag in front of him and then, I guess, I forgot.”

“It’s fine, it’s only me.  You can gloat with me, I won’t tell.”

“I didn’t gloat with him.”

“I know.  You wouldn’t.  I’m just happy it has all worked out so well.”  She changed the subject again.  “Maybe he will acknowledge you and make you a bann.  Long’s Reach could be vacant.  You could pledge to Papa.”

“Long’s Reach? 

“My grandfather’s bann.  My Mum’s Da.  Her brother died in the rebellion, so there was no one to inherit.  It’s part of Mum’s dowry.  It will come to me one day, actually.”

“Are you making this up as we talk?”

She grinned.  “Sort of.  I do plan to go to Nevarra and work with Cousin Samuel.  I don’t plan to marry anyone else.  The rest, Bann of Long’s Reach and all, yes.  I can tell Teyrn Loghain.  He and Papa can talk with King Maric.  It’s good to have dreams, right?  Sometimes they come true if you work at them.”

“I guess.  I certainly had a few come true with your help.  I just don’t want to wish for too much.  Some days I wake up and think, today’s the day I’ll be sent back to the stables.  It hasn’t happened, but a part of me still thinks it will.”

“If it does, I’ll just have to yell at your father myself this time.”

Alistair looked horrified.  “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.  In private, of course, but I would.  Impulsive and passionate, remember?”

“Well, I guess I better hope I stay out of the stables then.  Isn’t yelling at the king a crime of some sort?”

“Teyrn Loghain does it all time, so I guess not, if you’re his friend.  Although, in truth, King Maric and Teyrn Loghain are more like brothers.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.  Let Teyrn Loghain do the yelling.  Anyway, I’m not in the stables, so it’s a moot point, right.” 

“Moot?”

“Moot.  What, I can’t have a good vocabulary?”

“Moot,” she giggled. 

“You know, My Lady Volatile, you confuse me.  A few minutes ago you worried you wouldn’t make your parents proud, then you say you’ll yell at the King for me.”

“Well, I’ll fight for something or someone I believe in, but I won’t always fight for myself, I guess.  At least that’s what Mum says.  She tells me I need to believe I deserve what I think everyone else deserves.  I guess I don’t believe that.  At least not all the time.”

“I think your Mum is exactly right, Lyssie.”

She smiled at him.  “Thank you.  I’m glad you think I’m worth it.”

“By the Maker, Lys, I would do for you everything you’ve done for me and more should you ever need it.  You don’t even need to ask.”  He looked toward the west, where the sun stood just above the horizon.  “We should get back, I think.  They’ll be sending out a search party, if we miss dinner.”  He stood and held out his hand to help her up.

“No, they’ll just send Fergus, but he’d be grumpy and that would be worse.  So, you’re right, we should get back.”  She took his hand and stood.  “Thank you for finding me.  I do feel better.  Coming here always calms me.  Watching the sea and the birds, hearing the wind and the surf, but you helped even more.”

“Glad to be of service, My… -“

“Betrothed?” she asked.

“That’s a bit presumptuous of me.  Afterall, I still have to ask your father.”

“Presumptuous of you?  I asked.  I won’t ever be with anyone else, Ali.  You’re my friend and so much more.  Girls my age, or younger, get betrothed all the time.  Unless you changed your mind.”

“No.  It’s just not something I ever imagined for me.”

“Ali, you’re smart, witty, handsome, caring…you’re my perfect boy, my best friend.  And besides, Nate’s taken.”

“Nate?!”

“You tease me with your love of cheese, I need to retaliate with _something_.  So, yes, Nate.  He’s Pippa’s.”  She giggled.  “You can’t have cheese and I can’t have Nate, so we’ll have to settle for each other.”

“Happily, My Betrothed.”  He bowed and kissed her hand.  “Lyssie, you’re blushing.”

“Well, we’ll match then.  Surprise!  So are you.  Happy Summerday, Alistair.”  She hugged him.  “I’m so glad you came.”

The two walked back to Castle Cousland hand-in-hand, feeling somewhat less sad about Alistair’s impending departure.

* * *

[15]In the open competition, a live bird or papingo is tied to a pole and must be hit as it flutters about trying to free itself.  It's quite difficult. The first archer to kill the bird wins."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. If you have time, please review. Book 1 may be complete, but I'm working on Book 2.
> 
> After completing Brief Shining Moments, I re-read and edited the entire work. From Chapter 14 on I had the support of my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion which resulted in far fewer errors. Any remaining are mine alone. There may be a few tweaks to wording, but no content changes. 
> 
> I’ve received the support of many reviewers. Mike3207, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Caraine, clafoung, SnowHelm, katdancer2, dustywalker, Easternviolet, ElyssaCousland, Nymra, ChaoticHarmony1991, EveHawk, susyjohn, Judy, maradeux, DjinniGenie, Pollyanna24, Contess. Others have followed and favorited the story or posted kudos. Thanks to all of you.
> 
> I created some appendices with commissioned art, timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure.


	19. The Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Redcliffe, Ferelden - Funalis Fest in Solace and August 9:20 Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.  
> TRIGGER WARNING: Violence and physical punishment occur in this chapter. A trigger warning precedes the scene and a summary of that scene is provided at the end of the chapter if you wish to skip it.

DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™.  I pretend to live in their world.

SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics.  If you have not played or read, please beware.

**TRIGGER WARNING:  Violence and physical punishment occur in this chapter.  A trigger warning precedes the scene and a summary of that scene is provided at the end of the chapter if you wish to skip it.  I also changed the stories rating to “M” where it will remain.**

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 19:  THE PUNISHMENT**

* * *

**9:20 Dragon   27 Solace  ===  Castle Redcliffe**

Even after two years, Arlessa Isolde Guerrin remained fixated on the belief that Alistair was Eamon’s son.  With Alistair living in the Armory, she had few opportunities to vent her wrath on the boy.  Alistair’s good behavior and outstanding scholarly and martial performances enraged her.  She had always claimed the boy was uneducable and iniquitous.  By behaving well, then excelling at school and in arms training, he had made a fool of her.

Further, Teyrn Loghain’s involvement in Alistair’s upbringing confused her and stymied her efforts to rid Redcliffe of his presence.  Arl Eamon did not understand why Isolde refused to believe that Alistair was Loghain’s byblow, given the Teyrn’s actions.  Even her pregnancy did not divert her from the belief that Alistair was Eamon’s bastard and, therefore, a threat to her own, soon to be born, child.  

In spite of the agreement between her husband and Teyrns Mac Tir and Cousland, the Arlessa initiated a scheme to rid her world of Alistair as he approached his tenth birthday. 

“Eamon, he does not belong here if he is, as you say, not your son.”

“Isolde, I don’t understand your problem.  We never see the boy.”

“Seeing does not matter.  I know the boy is here.  Sister Eleutheria sees him at the stable.  As our child grows up he or she will see him.”

“Isolde, he is not my son.  I keep him as a favor to a friend. Forget him.”

“I cannot.  I want our child to be the center of our world.  I want no distractions from that _bâtard_ , _rien_ , none.”

“What do you propose, Isolde.”

“He will be ten in Solace.  Sister Eleutheria suggested sending him to the Chantry.  He does well in arms training, she is told.  He can be promised as a templar.  There is a small, remote monastery in the Frostbacks just west of here.  He can go there.  No one will ever find him, remember him or see him again.”

Eamon sighed, “I’ll consider it, my dear.”  _Of course,_ he conceded to himself, _he would have to discuss it directly with King Maric and get his assent.  The King might even agree that templar training would be superior to what the Redcliffe Guard could provide and less problematic than squiring him with a noble.  The king would surely leave it to Eamon, as he would not want to get involved.  King Maric might include Loghain, but I hope the surly Teyrn will not interfere.  The Couslands must be kept completely unaware._

Eamon investigated the Monastery Sister Eleutheria suggested believing that presenting _a fait accompli_ to King Maric would ensure success.  In Eamon’s experience, Maric did not like discussing Alistair.  Coming to him with a clear plan for the boy had always resulted in approvals in the past. 

The small, run down monastery stood south of Rainesfere in the Frostback foothills, more than ten miles west of the Imperial Highway.  Sending Alistair to a remote location, staffed by brothers and templars considered unfit for service in more visible locations would ensure his disappearance into the anonymous ranks of templar troops.  _Perhaps,_ Eamon thought,  _he would send Alistair off after Funalis on a trial visit, pending Maric’s approval._   _Alistair’s acceptance would not be in question given the generous donation I will offer._       

Isolde’s obsession with removing Alistair from Redcliffe Castle had frustrated Sister Eleutheria.  She hoped sending the boy away would enable Isolde to focus her efforts on influencing Eamon’s policy choices to favor Orlais.  The Arlessa argued that she would have more leverage with Eamon once her own child was born and Alistair gone.  Eleutheria agreed with that assessment and encouraged her to remove Alistair.  Arlessa Isolde could focus on doing Orlais’ bidding, once the boy was gone.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

With the arrival of the Couslands, Teyrn Loghain, King Maric and Crown Prince Cailan, Isolde’s focus on ridding Redcliffe of Alistair deepened.  The Cousland brat always befriended Alistair during her visits.  Teyrn Loghain included the boy in their activities and allowed him to stay in the Teyrn’s rooms.  Loghain had even taken the boy to Highever at Summerday.  It was too much.  She had decided she would ensure Alistair was punished and removed before another Funalis could be ruined, but Eamon had not cooperated.  He remained in the castle when the guests arrived.

Eamon had instructed Alistair to remain in the Armory and to avoid the noble and royal guests, including Lady Cousland.  Isolde had no faith that Alistair would obey.  With the Couslands, Teyrn Loghain and the King settled in their apartments, Isolde stalked off to resolve this problem herself before Loghain or the Couslands could find the boy.  She would send him to the templars in the village.  They agreed to hold him until the templars from the Monastery came to remove him.  Alistair, however, had not been at the Armory.  The Arms Master told the Arlessa that he often assisted at the stables when Master Wilmot needed help.  She grimaced, but set off for the stables through the yards muddied by a recent downpour, her servants trailing at her heels.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

**TRIGGER WARNING BEGINS**

Outraged, Isolde watched as a groom and her servants dragged Alistair and Lys from the stable loft where the servants had found them asleep.  "Who is your little whore?" she hissed. 

"My lady, I don't understand," the boy said.  “We fell asleep after we took shelter from the storm.”

“Shelter!” the Arlessa hissed, her accent deepening with each word.  “That is what you call it?  You use the village brat to satisfy your curiosity.”

 The girl, face smudged with dirt and hair full of straw, her leggings and tunic rumpled from her struggle, radiated defiance. 

“Arlessa Guerrin, look at me!  Do you not recognize the daughter of Teyrn Bryce Cousland of Highever?  Look at my clothes, my crest.  Do you dare attempt to punish me?”

Isolde hesitated.  The girl’s accent showed her noble background.  Her outraged, defiance was not that of a Redcliffe villager.  “Why would you consort with this…this _bâtard_?”

Lys’ eyes narrowed, then she tossed her head.  “Why not?  He amuses me and does my bidding.” Lys replied, loftily.  “The Arl assigns him as my escort whenever I am here.  Surely, you know that, Arlessa.  Or does Arl Eamon not inform you of his orders?”

She tried not to notice the shocked look on Alistair’s face as she spoke.

“Amuses…?”  Isolde sputtered.  “Of all the…of course, my husband informs me of everything that happens here in Redcliff.”  She studied the girl’s clothing,  She wore finely woven woolen leggings and tunic, in what could only be Cousland blue, over a linen under tunic and a fine silver chain with a laurel pendant.  Well cared for, if messy dark brown hair in a single long plait fell over a cloak with the Cousland crest and gold embroidery around the hood.  Fine Antivan leather boots, belts and loosely fitted jerkin completed Lys’ attire.  Not the apparel of a village brat.

“Your status only makes your behavior worse.  Consorting in the loft with a common _bâtard_.”

“It began to rain, Arlessa Guerrin, as you must have noted, given the mud on those lovely shoes.  We simply took shelter, instead of riding out in the downpour.  We fell asleep.  The boy acted on my orders.  As I said, he does my bidding.  I see no need to punish him.”  Lys pulled against the servant who held her.  “Now let me go.”

“Let her go,” the Arlessa snapped.  “Whether you see the need for punishment is irrelevant.  He is a Redcliffe servant.  The _bâtard_ stays.  His inappropriate familiarity with a noble born girl will be punished."   She turned to her servant.  “Twenty lashes, now.”

At this, even the servant looked surprised.  The children were no more than nine or ten.  He suspected they had, in fact, taken shelter from the rain and fallen asleep, but he knew better than to disobey the Arlessa.  Her rages were legend in Castle Redcliffe.  He dragged Alistair to the yard in front of the stable.  Alistair struggled for a moment and then relaxed.  He remembered struggling only made the punishments worse.

About to yell out, Lys hesitated.  The Arlessa would only ignore her or, worse, increase the punishment.  She watched as the servants stripped Alistair of his tunic, under tunic and boots.  They bound Alistair’s hands, raised them above his head and secured the binding to a post in the stable yard.  His bare toes stretched to reach the ground.

“Do as you will,” Lys said, shrugging, “I’ve no need to watch.”  Lys walked out of the stable yard, expecting the Arlessa to stop her, but Arlessa Isolde ignored her. 

Alistair heard her leave.  He slumped, readying himself for the blows.  Part of him was glad Lys would not witness the whipping.  Another part, felt abandoned.  _She left me,_ he thought. _She didn’t even try to stop the Arlessa_.  _I’m just a boy, a stupid boy, who does her bidding._   As the first lash hit his back, he gritted his teeth and refused to cry out.  After two years, he had felt safe.  _Idiot.  Of course, you’re not safe.  No one cares. She left._ The tears flowing down his cheeks as the second blow fell had nothing to do with the lash. 

Once out of the Arlessa sight, Lys raced to the Practice Yard where she expected to find her father.  As she hoped, he stood with Teyrn Loghain and King Maric watching Fergus and Cailan.  The two boys sparred, broadsword to broadsword, in spite of the intermittent rain squalls and muddy yard.

“Papa, Papa, you and Teyrn Loghain must come to the Stable Yard now.”  Lys shouted.  “The Orlesian ordered twenty lashes for Alistair when she found us together.  Please, come now,” she cried frantically.  “They’ve already started.” 

Loghain and Bryce looked at the desperate girl and then took off at a run for the Stable Yard.  Lys, King Maric, Fergus and Cailan followed.  A grim sight greeted them as Alistair’s took a fourth strike.”

“ _Stop this now_ ,” roared Loghain.  The servant halted.  Loghain turned to Isolde.  “Whether you like it or not, Arlessa,” he snarled, “this boy is under my protection.  My agreement with your husband prohibits your involvement with this child.” 

He walked over to Alistair and cut him down.  “Go with Lys, Alistair.”  He brushed his hand through Alistair’s hair and noted the boy had not cried out, although his cheeks were wet with tears.  “You’ve been very brave, son.  We’ll talk later.  I need to speak with the Arl first.”

The boy tried to smile, as Lys ran up with his clothes.  She turned and presented Loghain with a glorious smile.  “Thank you,” was all she said taking Alistair’s hand pulling him toward the castle. 

King Maric joined Loghain in front of Isolde.  “I think, Arlessa Guerrin, you should accompany me to the Castle.  We need to speak with the Arl.” 

**END**

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Isolde left with King Maric, Teyrn Loghain and Teyrn Bryce, dumbfounded at the turn of events. 

 _How could these Fereldans best her repeatedly,_ she wondered.  _And the boy.  Under Loghain’s protection?  Eamon kept saying that, but why would the Teyrn interfere?    He was Eamon’s ward, after all, subject to Eamon’s orders.  Why should Loghain care?  And why was King Maric here too?_

Sister Eleutheria watched from the Chapel gateway.  Eamon always presented himself as Alistair’s guardian, but Loghain’s assertion belied that fact.  She had heard about the Teyrn’s involvement from the Guard Captain and the Arms Master, but had thought it exaggerated.  She accepted Isolde’s belief in Alistair’s paternity, but perhaps he wasn’t Eamon’s.  Could he be Loghain’s?  However, if he was Loghain’s, why was he here and not in Gwaren.  And why would King Maric get involved? 

Slowly, another possibility crept into her mind, as the King led Isolde to the Keep.  _What a fool she had been,_ she mused _.  The boy’s resemblance to the king was undeniable.  He could be Cailan’s brother.  Loghain was acting for the King.  The tool Orlais needed was here right in her hands and she let Isolde’s jealousy destroy an excellent opportunity._ She would have to rethink her plans.  Perhaps Isolde’s wish to send him to that remote Monastery would work _._   The monastery Eamon selected was close to the border.  Moving him to Orlais from that Fereldan monastery could happen at the Divine’s order, but kept secret within the Chantry.  No one in Ferelden would even know he had gone, which was a far better means of gaining control of him then outright kidnapping.  _Isolde was a fool._ Sister Eleutheria thought.  _She should have learned of the boy’s parentage from Eamon years ago._

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

King Maric led the Teyrns and Isolde to Eamon’s study.  The Arl looked up as they entered noting the grim look on the men’s faces and the anger on Isolde’s.  He stood to acknowledge King Maric, concealing his trepidation and asking, “Is there a problem Your Majesty?  Your Graces?  Isolde?”

The Teyrns let Maric speak.  “Problem, Eamon?  I don’t know.  Would you consider ordering twenty lashes for a ten-year-old child a problem?  Would you consider delivering four of those lashes before Loghain stopped it a problem?  Do you think your wife’s willful disobedience of your order to stay away from Alistair a problem?”  The King’s voice rose with each question.

Eamon groaned to himself.  _Isolde, what have you done?_   “Of course, Your Majesty, I would consider any punishment of a child a problem?  Isolde, what caused you to order such a thing?”

“He consorted with our guests, Eamon.  You promised me he would stay away from the guests.  He had the Cousland girl in the stable loft.”

“What!”

“Enough, Eamon.  I will brook no theatrics from you or your wife.  Alistair is Lys’ friend.  He accompanies her whenever the Teyrn and his family visit, as you well know.  Now I will again make it clear to you and, now, to your wife:  Alistair will not be punished by either of you.  His education, training and living arrangements will not be altered by either of you.  Teyrns Mac Tir and Cousland will continue to oversee his upbringing since you still seem unable to manage it alone, Eamon.”  The King turned to Isolde.  “Arlessa Guerrin, do you understand you are never to interfere with Alistair?  Never.   _Jamais_ , Arlessa Guerrin, _compris tu?  Jamais_.”

The Arlessa stepped back, intimidated by the usually affable king’s intensity.  “ _Oui,_ yes, Your Majesty.  _Je compris_.  I understand.”

Maric strode out of the study.

The two Teyrns glared at the Arl.  “Well, Eamon?”  Teyrn Loghain asked. 

“I think His Majesty made himself clear, Your Grace.  Is further discussion necessary?”  Eamon attempted to maintain his hauteur in the face of the Teyrns’ anger.

“You attitude does you no credit Eamon.” Loghain snapped.  “I hope we have no need to speak of this again.”  The Teyrns left.

 Eamon turned to Isolde who remained standing by his desk.  “How could you be so stupid, Isolde.  I’ve told you to stay away from him,” he snarled, keeping his voice low.

“You told me he would not associate with the guests, Eamon.”

“I cannot stop the Teyrns if they choose differently.  That Cousland brat befriended him.  All these problems started with her.  Now stay away from the two of them.”

“As you command, Husband,” Isolde snapped.  “Once Funalis ends, I want that _bâtard_ out of my home.”  She rubbed her stomach, which seemed to expand daily now that she had passed her sixth month.  “I will not have him near our child.”

Eamon smiled, “I believe we can accomplish that, my love.  Just give me some time to convince the Teyrns and the King.”

Teagan had seen the clearly angry king and teyrns enter Eamon’s  study, but had not followed them in.  His curiosity, however, kept him outside the door listening.  He remained after the king and teyrns left.  _What does Eamon have planned now,_ he wondered. His brother bore watching.  He did not want to see the boy harmed further. 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Alistair’s first experience with magical healing, coming so soon after the trauma of the whipping, scared him at first.  Nyla’s gentle ministrations soon had him at ease.  He had met her on previous visits and Lys loved her.  The potion took away the worst pain, then he felt the healing flow across his back bringing immediate relief.  He smiled ruefully to himself, Lys was right as usual, he had no reason to fear healing magic.

As Nyla healed Alistair, Lys stayed with her mother.  Lys cuddled next to Eleanor on her bed until she stopped crying.  Her tears had not come until Alistair left with Nyla and Freya went to the Teyrn’s room to get Alistair clean clothes. Teyrna Eleanor warned Lys not to dwell on the experience until Alistair was ready to talk.   

“Mum, why did she do that?” Lys finally managed to ask.  “We didn’t do anything wrong.  We’ve been in the loft together so many times.  Master Wilmot knew we were there.  Why?”

Eleanor hugged Lys more tightly.  “I don’t know Lys.  She dislikes Alistair.  I’m not sure why.  Some people are not nice, my darling.  Isolde seems to be one of them.  She needs no reason to do what she does.  King Maric, Loghain and your Papa will talk to the Arl.  Alistair will be fine.”

Sitting up, she took a linen cloth, dampened it and wiped Lys’ face. “He will want to be with you, sweetling.  Can you be brave for him?  He will need some hugs, cheese and a friend tonight.”

Lys chuckled in spite of herself, “Yes, cheese will make it better.  I’ll go see if Nyla is finished.  We can sit by the fire and read.”       

Eleanor ordered food and sweet cider from the kitchens and hoped for the best.  Alistair came out of Nyla’s room with Lys.  His shoulders slumping, he stared at the floor, not responding to Lys’ chatter about sitting by the fire.  Teyrna Eleanor called Alistair over.  Once he stood before her, she gathered him in a hug and kissed the top of his head. 

“The King and Teyrns will speak with the Arl and Arlessa, Alistair.  She won’t be permitted to do this again.”

His arms went around the Teyrna as she continued to hold him. 

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Alistair, you and Lys will stay here tonight with Freya and Nyla.  You will be safe.” She assured him as she smoothed his hair. 

He sniffed.  “I’ll be alright.” 

She put her finger under his chin and raised his face to look at her. “Ali, we love you.  If we could do more…. remember, you are not alone.”

He nodded as she released him and turned to Lys, trying to smile.  “I thought you left me.”

“I know.  Ali, I didn’t know what else to do.  I thought if I treated you like a servant she would blame me and not hurt you.  When that didn’t work, I had to get away to find Papa.  I was afraid she’d make me stay to watch if she thought I cared.  I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.  You did save me.  It…At first, when you left.”

She hugged him.  “I would never just leave you.”

His arms slipped around her and he hugged her tightly.  “I know.  Now, I know.  Thank you.”

Releasing him, she took his hand and pulled him to sit by the fire.  He stretched out and Lys leaned against his hip to read aloud.  The Teyrna smiled.  Lys seemed to understand that normal activity and some human contact would comfort the boy.  Eventually, she noticed, he had fallen asleep.  She covered him with a blanket and motioned for Lys to follow her to her room.

“Hush, let him sleep,” she said, motioning with her finger to her lips. “I need to dress for dinner.  You and Alistair will eat here.  He can stay with us tonight.  There’s a trundle under your bed he can use.”

“I don’t know what to say to him, Mum.  I’m afraid to say the wrong thing.” Lys was feeling powerless, which was a new sensation.

Teyrna Eleanor knew this was a strange feeling for her impulsive daughter.  Instinctively, Lys would want to hug Alistair again, tell him everything would be fixed and then try to make good on that promise.

“Lys just keep him company.  He’ll talk when he’s ready.”  She thought for a moment, “Maybe a diversion will help.  Why don’t you go to the tower roof tonight.  It may be cool, but the rain stopped and it is clearing.  There will be stars later.  Sometimes we can say in the darkness, what we can’t talk about in the light.  You can fall asleep there if you want.  You said he used to, when he was younger.  We’ll come and get you when we return.  I’ll let Freya know we approve.”

Realizing her mother’s plan would suit Alistair, Lys gave a slight smile.  “I think he’ll like that.  Mum, I thought the Arlessa wasn’t permitted to punish him.  What if she does it again when we leave?”

“Lys, we have to trust Loghain and your father to talk to Arl Eamon and make sure this doesn’t happen again.  The Arlessa will have her own child soon.  She won’t have time to pay attention to Alistair, once he’s back in the Armory.  He should be fine, just as he’s been for the past two years.  Enjoy your time with him, instead of worrying about the future.”

Looking doubtful, Lys replied, “I’ll try.”

Eleanor hugged her.  “Now, go on out and read until he wakes up.  I need to get dressed.”

Lys returned to the fire, where Alistair sat, awake.

“Feeling a little better?” she asked. 

“A little,” he conceded.  “Maybe a little hungry.  Is that tray for us?”

“Cheese,” she grinned. 

“Oh, well then, it must be for us.”  He tried to smile.  “Are you alright?’

“I’m fine,” she assured him.  “They didn’t hurt me.  I know…well, you told me what she did, but seeing her…and you.”  She stopped, now sure what else to say.

“You rescued me.  You and my fath…the king and your father and Teyrn Loghain.  No one’s ever stopped her before.”

“Ali, we love you.  Of course we stopped her.”  She reached out for his hand, “She’s evil.  I hate her, but Teyrn Loghain and Papa will make the Arl keep you safe.”

They toasted cheese and bread over the fire and sipped cider fresh from Rainesfere orchards.  Alistair remained withdrawn, barely answering Lys’ questions about his training and school.  Finally, she suggested they go to the tower.  Alistair shrugged, but rose when she did and followed her to the tower stairway.  Then he stopped.

“Wait, I need to get something Lys.”  He hurried back to his room in Teyrn Loghain’s apartment.  _Maker, I almost forgot._  He pulled a silver ring, engraved with laurel leaves from its pouch and slipped it on his little finger.  Joining Lys, they climbed the stairs to the roof.  They were met by a starry night.

“Look at them all,” she whispered to Alistair.  “So beautiful.” 

Alistair finally smiled.  “It is beautiful.”  He hesitated, “Thank you, for the rescue.  Sorry, I should have said that before.  I…I’ve been rude.  It…I’d forgotten…how awful it used to be.”

“You did thank me, but there’s no need.  She won’t do it again.  Papa, King Maric and Teyrn Loghain were very angry.  In addition, Fergus and Cailan saw what she did.  I think King Maric may speak to the Arl now, too.”  Lys worried she had said too much, speaking of the King, but Alistair nodded

 “I just want her to forget I’m here.  Maybe her baby will take all her attention.  I like school and training.  I don’t want that to change.  I just want the Arl and Arlessa to ignore me.  I want to be invisible to them.”  Alistair pulled one of the blankets around them and leaned back against the battlements.

“I’m glad you’re here, this year, Lyssie.  I didn’t think I’d see you again when you didn’t come last year, but then Teyrn Loghain brought me to Highever.”

“I was so disappointed last year, “Lys confided.  “I missed you too.  I’m so glad we came this year.  We’ve gotten to visit each other twice and you saw my home.”

“Highever is beautiful.  I wish I could be a page or squire there.”  He saw her uncomfortable look.  “I don’t mean at Castle Cousland or even at Higheverport Keep.  There are other banns.  I meant with one of them.  I know I can’t be near Higheverport or the Castle.  I’d just like to be away from here.”

She took his hand and curled up with her head on his shoulder.  “I wish I could take you with us.  Did Nyla heal you completely, or does it still hurt?”

“Nyla healed me completely.  I’ve never been healed by a magic before.  It’s amazing.  You’re lucky to have her in your household.”

“I know, I’ve known about healing magic all my life and it’s still unbelievable sometimes.  Potions I understand.  Pippa and I collect the ingredients, dry them, grind them and mix them…they make sense.  Magic…well, it’s magic.  It’s a gift.  I can’t understand the Chantry.  How does healing magic not serve man?”

“I’m sure the Arlessa could explain.”  Alistair responded grimly.

“Let’s not think about her.  It’s a beautiful night and you are my best friend and more.  We should just enjoy the stars.”

“I thought Pippa was your best friend?”

“No, she’s my sister.  Not a sister by blood, of course, but a sister by any other measure.  You’re my best friend.  I don’t feel like you’re my brother anymore.  I have a brother and I feel differently about you than I do Fergus.”

“Well, I hope so, after all we’re betrothed, right?”

“If you still want to be.”  She replied sounding embarrassed.  “It…was it too silly of me?”

“Silly?  No.  I do want to be, if you do.”

She laughed quietly, “I do want to.”

“That’s good, because…I have this for you”  He pulled the ring off his finger and held it up.

“Ali, it’s laurel leaves.  It’s lovely.  How can you be so awkward sometimes and then do the perfect thing when it’s most important.”

“I do?  I mean the awkward part I do.  Perfect and Alistair aren’t words I expect to hear together though.”

“You are…you’re my perfect boy.  Put it on my finger, please.”

He slipped it on the ring finger on her right hand.  “It’s loose, perhaps you should wear it on your second finger for now?”

“For now, although I’m sure I’ll grow into it.  Thank you.  I suppose this makes it official.”  She gave him a mischievous grin, “I am officially better than cheese.” 

He chuckled.  “You are.  Much better.”

She kissed his cheek and looked up at the sky again.  She noticed a bright dot slowly moving across the heavens.  It was a satellite.  Every linked world had several satellites in orbit to control the Portals and provide communications. 

“Do you see that bright dot?  It’s just above the tower doorway on your far left.”

Alistair stared.  “It’s moving,” he observed.  “But, it’s not moving fast like a shooting star.  It’s very curious.”

“It’s a satellite.  It moves around this world.  There are several other ones.”

“A satell…what?”

“You told me once that you wondered if there were other worlds like this one out there among the stars.  Do you remember?  And I told you that there must be.  We couldn’t be the only one.”

“Yes, I do remember that.”

“Well, I know there are other worlds.  It’s possible to travel to them through gateways called Portals.  I can travel to one called Areth.”

He looked at her in disbelief.  “Right…is this where I quietly creep back down the stairs to Teyrn Loghain’s room and lock myself in?”

“No.  It’s true.  It’s not something we Travelers tell many other people.  I just wanted to tell you.”  She glanced at him.  “Now that we’re betrothed.”

“Why?  If it’s true, you probably shouldn’t tell me, right?  If it’s not…true…why would you lie to me?  Or is this the start  of a story?”

“You’re right, I should only tell you if you’re someone very, very special to me.  Since you are…very special to me, I can tell you.

“It’s also true that it could be the start of a story.  The story of how the Couslands came to Ferelden.  My family has been here for hundreds of years.  Sarim Cousland, the founder of our noble line, was a Traveler, but the Couslands before him were commoners and Travelers.  Sarim’s great-great-great-grandparents, Jadyn and Melys, were the original Travelers from Areth.    Her name was Melysande, too.  I’m named for her.  They came alone, just the two of them, and settled on an abandoned farmhold near Highever.  The farmstead belonged to Martyn Cousland.  They took his surname so they could claim the farmhold. You saw the farmhold site and the tree she planted when we rode with Loghain to the beach.”

“You haven’t told Pippa?”

“I don’t have to tell Pippa, she’s a Traveler too.  I wanted to tell you, because I don’t think you understand how special you are to me.  I want you to know.”

He squirmed, unsure of how to respond.  _Other worlds among the stars?_   “I don’t know what to say.  Thank you for telling me, I guess.  Can something bad happen to you for telling?”

“No, not really.  I mean, it’s not as if you know where the Portal is or that you’re going to run out and announce it.  Then you’d look crazy.”

“Right…they’d be walking away from me.”  He was quiet for a while.  “So, My Lady of the Stars, you can magically travel to another world?”

“Not magically, no.  Areth doesn’t have magic.  Areth has science.  Scientists and engineers create portals and satellites and all sorts of amazing things.  The make them; they don’t cast magic.”  She thought for a moment.  “I can create a potion, but I can’t cast healing magic.  Making a potion is science; casting to heal is magic.”

Alistair frowned, “I see, I think.  Is Areth your home?”

“Absolutely not, I am totally Fereldan.  Ferelden is home.  We visit Areth every year to see family and study, but Areth is not home.  Travelers are explorers of a sort.  We tell the Council, the group that helps us, what our life is like.  Every adult Traveler keeps a journal and provides it to Areth.  There are shelves and shelves of journals in the Council’s library.”

“So, Areth keeps Ferelden’s history?”

“In a way, yes, for Ferelden and other places in Thedas.  There are Travelers elsewhere.  Actually,” she grinned, ”there are Travelers on many other worlds.”

“Oh, so it’s an invasion?”

“No.  We join the tribe or country or city where we live.  We don’t invade.  We don’t bring weapons.  As I said, we’re explorers, but we live in the world we explore as regular people.  We just have slightly different viewpoints, because we learn Arethian values.  Like, we don’t believe in slavery.  We think prosperous nations, where wealth is shared among all the people, are peaceful nations.  We think trade and the economy are important.  We think everyone – mages, elves, dwarves, humans – should be treated the same.  There should be laws, but laws that apply to everyone.  These ideas…well they may make us act differently sometimes.  I explained some of this when we were in Highever.  It makes Highever different.”

“It must work, then, because Highever is a wonderful place.”

“It is.”  She smiled.  “We’re not that different.  Mostly we just live in the world like everyone else.  The one thing we can do is leave if we choose to.  My aunt did that.  My mother’s younger sister.  Her parents sent her back to Areth during the Occupation when she was very little.  She decided to stay.  My parents didn’t; they stayed here and fought with King Maric.  We do have choices others don’t.”

“So, if I was from Areth, I could just leave Arl Eamon and go there.”

“Well, yes.” Lys frowned realizing she’d identified a door Alistair couldn’t open.  _Stupid,_ she thought, _I’m trying to make him feel better and I let him know he’s trapped here and I’m not.  Stupid, stupid._   “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you I have those choices.  I wish you had them too.”

“No, it’s fine.  It’s good to know you trust me and think I’m special enough to tell.”  He sat quietly for a few moments.  “I just wish I had choices too.”

Lys kissed his cheek and curled up by his side again.  “I do too.  I’d go to Areth with you if you wanted to leave.  I’d go anywhere with you.”

He took her hand.  “I don’t want to leave, Lys.  I’m Fereldan too.  I just want to be more than a stable boy.  You, your family and Teyrn Loghain have made that possible for me.  I know I can do more now.  I am smart.  I can read and figure.  I can fight.  Most importantly, I have friends.”

He watched the satellite as it slipped into the eastern sky.  Even a mage couldn’t put a machine in the sky.  Areth must be wonderful.  He felt Lys relax into sleep at his side.  He hoped she didn’t regret telling him.  He did feel better about himself.  He did believe he could be more than a stable boy.  He still wasn’t sure the Arl or his father would allow it.

She could have no idea how trapped and alone he sometimes felt.  He couldn’t leave Redcliffe; he would be captured and brought back if he ran away.  She could go to another world.  Yet, she trusted him enough to tell him. 

A thread of disbelief moved through his thoughts.  If he had not seen the satellite he would not have believed her, but there it was moving steadily across the sky.  It wasn’t a comet or shooting star.  It was a steadily moving point of light.  Science put it there, not magic.  _He’d have to ask her more about science,_ he thought as he started to doze.

Lys slept at his side.  She was his one point of hope.  Things were always a little better because of her.  “Thank you, My Lady of the Satellites,” he murmured.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUMMARY of Scene in Stables: Arlessa Isolde finds Lys and Alistair asleep in the stable loft where they took refuge from a downpour. Her servants drag them down to the stable. Lys confronts the Arlessa identifying herself as Melysande Cousland hoping to avoid punishment for both of them She succeeds for herself, but the Arlessa proceeds to have Alistair punished. Lys pretends indifference, hurting Alistair’s feelings, so she can rush off to find her father and Teyrn Loghain. The two men, along with King Maric, Cailan and Fergus, return to stop Alistair’s punishment, but not before it had begun. Loghain sends Alistair off with Lys to find her mother and Mage Healer Nyla. The King insists the Arlessa come with him to find Eamon. The two Teyrns follow him to Eamon’s study. 
> 
> Please resume reading from this point. Remaining scenes contain no violence or physical punishment.___  
> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. As a new author, I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.
> 
> Special Thanks to my beta Kira Tamarion. I look forward each week to her insightful comments and suggestions on the next chapter. This chapter, as always, benefitted from her wise counsel. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine.
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and, especially, Reviewed – most recently Eastern Violet, clafount and KatDancer2. Thanks for the thoughtful feedback. I appreciate knowing what folks think about Lys, Ali, Loghain and their story.  
> There are appendices with background assumptions on timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. in AO3 If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure (remove spaces and copy): archive of our /works/692656/chapters/1273563


	20. The Name Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Redcliffe 9:20 Dragaon Solace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

 “Don't let it be forgot

That once there was a spot

For one brief shining moment…”

 

That was Ferelden

 Ruled by King Maric the Savior

Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 20:  THE NAME DAY**

 

 

* * *

**9:20 Dragon   28 Solace  ===  Castle Redcliffe**

Alistair woke up in his room in Teyrn Loghain’s apartment.  He barely remembered returning here with the Teyrn last night from the tower roof.  He and Lys had fallen asleep watching the stars.  He stretched and found his back no longer hurt.  Mage Nyla had healed the wounds from the whipping very thoroughly.  He smiled, remembering the gentle, tingly feeling of the healing magic.

 _Today,_ he remembered, _I am riding with Lys and Teyrn Loghain._   He rolled over and buried his head in the bolster groaning.  It was also his Name Day.  He was ten.  He hoped they would forget.  _Will Lys remember that I hate my Name Day_? He hoped she would. 

His Name Day reminded him of everything bad about his life.  It reminded him that his mother died when he was born.  It reminded him that he did not belong to anyone or fit in anywhere.  It reminded him that he had no status beyond bastard.  There were no rules for being a bastard.  He had no place and no role. 

In Ferelden, how one lived depended on one’s status and occupation.  Noble or freeholder, Bann or Teyrn, skilled artisan or common worker, elf or dwarf, mage, templar or sister, each a place in society and rules to guide them through life.  Alistair had no place.  He had no future where he would follow in his father’s footsteps; or one in which he would take a different path with a family’s support.

 _I should be grateful that my Name Days are better than they used to be,_ he reminded himself.  Before Arl Eamon married Isolde, the Arl made Alistair join him for dinner on his Name Day.  Arl Eamon had him brought in from the kitchens, then the kennels and finally the stables.  He would be given a bath and a new set of servant’s clothes, which were to last him until the next Name Day.  The food was good, but sitting in his servant’s garb singled him out from everyone else at the Arl’s table.  He was always betwixt and between, neither fish nor fowl, always Alistair the Bastard.  

Arl Eamon gave him a gift each year, which he would have to open, in front of everyone, after the meal.  Even if he liked the gift and the food, he hated how grateful he had to appear to the Arl.  Too often, the gift was something the Arl deemed inappropriate for a boy who was a servant.  The gift would be put away, supposedly to be given back later.  After all, what could he do with a beautiful book, when he could not read?  Or a fine leather jerkin when he lived in the stable.  One year, he had managed to keep the golem figure. He also kept the box of parchment, colored ink and quills another year.  He could not write when he received them, but he liked to draw.  He wanted to keep the fine dagger he had received last year, but that had been taken away too. 

He had protested that his training meant he knew how to use the dagger, but Arl Eamon laughed, “This dagger is fit for a prince, Alistair, not for the practice yards.  If you need a dagger I’m sure Arms Master Robert can find one for you.”

Nothing taken away had ever been given back.  Once he learned to read, he had asked about the book, but the Arl said a book of myths and stories was not appropriate for a boy of his age and station.  Once he knew his parentage, he realized the gifts were from his father, not Arl Eamon.  He wondered what Arl Eamon did with his gifts from King Maric or whether he should tell Teyrn Loghain that they were taken away.

Once the Name Day was over, before Isolde ended the dinners, the servants would deride him for putting on airs, as if he had a choice.  He had learned to turn away their gibes with a smile and a joke.  He had learned anger never worked.  Now, he released the anger on the training dummy or at the archery butts. 

Before moving to the Armory two years before, his outlets for anger and frustration were running up and down the hill to the village or, if nothing else was possible, screaming into the straw.  He was treated better now.  People knew he did well in the chantry school.  He had friends in the village again, now that their parents believed they would not anger the Arl by letting their children play with him.  His sparring partners respected his increasing skills with the waster, his wooden practice sword.  Keeping busy helped too.  When he had no duties in the armory, the Stable Master encouraged him to assist in training the new colts, as well as, helping in the stables. When he was busy, he could pretend his life had a purpose.

At least he did not have to worry about a Name Day dinner any more.  Now the Arl would leave the gift in his room.  He still had to go to the Arl with the gift, thank him, and ask if he could keep the gift, but at least it was no longer a public ordeal. 

_I should go to my room today, to see if the gift is there.  The Arl would be unhappy with me if I didn’t at least try to thank him promptly._

Alistair sighed again.  _I should get up_.  He understood that visits from the Couslands or Teyrn Loghain were just that, visits.  He loved the Couslands.  He treasured the time spent with them and Teyrn Loghain.  He tried very hard to be cheerful, friendly and diligent.  He buried his anger and concealed his pain.  Even Lys didn’t understand the sense of profound, consuming loneliness that permeated most of his days.  _I should just enjoy my time with them,_ _and_ _not whine_. He lay quietly watching the patch of sunlight creep along the wall.

 _Time to wash up, dress and face the day_.  He rolled out of bed and poured some warm water, from the pot on the brazier, into the washbasin.  He had taken a bath last night after Nyla healed him, so his ablutions were quick.  He dressed in a clean under tunic, a longer belted over tunic, leggings and boots.  A short leather jerkin completed the outfit.  His arming clothes were in his Armory room.  He would change there if they went to the nearby practice yard to spar.

He looked in the polished metal mirror.  Hazel eyes beneath arched brows stared back.  _Now smile,_ he ordered himself, and his grin appeared.  He’d become good at grinning on demand.  Well, he would not embarrass anyone with his dress today.  His grin disappeared.  _Good Name Day, bastard,_ he wished himself bleakly and turned to face the morning.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“Good morning, Teyrn Loghain.”  Alistair smiled brightly.

“Good morning, Alistair.  I hope you are well today?”  The Teyrn made no direct reference to the Arlessa or his Name Day.  “It promises to be a beautiful day for a ride.  We have a fine meal to break our fast.  Will you join me?  Lys isn’t dressed yet.  I just spoke to the Teyrn.”

“I’d like to.  It looks fine, indeed…there’s cheese!”

Loghain laughed.  “You’re too easy to please, Alistair.”

The day proceeded as planned including riding, sparring when they returned and then dining in the Cousland’s apartments.  There was a gift from the Arl in his room when he stopped to change into his arming clothes to spar.  A book, titled “Travels in Thedas” by a chantry brother called Genitivi.  As he put it on his shelf, he wondered, _Will the Arl let me keep it?_   _Maybe I shouldn’t give him the chance to take it away._  

Alistair wrote a note to the Arl to thank him and, by writing, remind him that he could now read.  He gave the note to the Arl’s servant when he returned to the Castle with Lys and Loghain.  He suspected the Arl would appreciate not being interrupted to be thanked for the gift.  Funalis kept him busy with guests.  _Maybe he’ll forget, since I already thanked him, to ask for the book to be returned,_ Alistair hoped.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Neither the Teyrn nor Lys had mentioned his Name Day.  The adults all went to the Arlessa’s banquet that evening, so Lys and Alistair were, again, eating in the Cousland’s apartments.  They were alone in the common room after dinner discussing mounted archers when Lys handed him three packages. 

“What are these?” he asked belligerently.

“They’re gifts, Ali.”

He rolled his eyes.  “I can see that,” he snapped.

“It’s only you and me.  I know you say you hate your Name Day, but I’m grateful you were born.  You’re my friend, and I want to show you that I’m happy you’re here.  Should I take them back and give them to you tomorrow?  I did this wrong didn’t I.  I love my Name Day, but I shouldn’t…  Oh Ali, I’m sorry.  I’m saying you should feel like I do, but you don’t.  I… I’m sorry.”

He tried not to smile.  She meant well, he knew that, and he didn’t really enjoy her discomfort.  “You’re babbling Lyssie.  It’s fine, really.  Thank you for not doing this in front of everyone.”  He pulled off the wrapping off the larger package to show he accepted the present.  “It’s really fine, Lys.  I don’t mind when it’s just the two of us,” he assured her.

He looked at the opened package and found two scrolls and a book.  He read the titles:  “A History of the Rebellion”, “Fighting Forms” and “A History of The Grey Wardens”.  He looked at Lys.

“Thank you.  I don’t know what else to say.  I’ve never owned one scroll or book until you sent the Star book.  Now I have three more.  These are perfect.  Maybe I like that you remembered my Name Day.  It’s different when it’s private, with a friend, and not for show.”  He finally smiled.  “Especially when I know I can actually keep the gifts,” he muttered to himself, but of course, Lys heard.

“Keep them?  Why wouldn’t you keep them?”

“No reason.”

“Ali, what did you mean.  Have you been given gifts you couldn’t keep?”

“Yes.  From the Arl.  It doesn’t matter now.”

“The dagger.  That’s why you never wear the dagger.  He kept it!”

“How do you know about the dagger?”

“Teyrn Loghain wondered why you never wore it.  He helped King Maric pick it out.”  She looked at him sharply.  “You know the gifts are from your…the king, right?  Not from Arl Eamon?”

“Yes.  I know.  I kept the Gollum.  And the parchment and inks.”

“You should have the dagger too.   You should tell Teyrn Loghain.”

“You won’t tell him will you?”

“No.  I want to, but it’s your choice, not mine.”

“Thank you.  Let me think about it.”  He smiled.  “I did like the dagger.  There’s a book I’d like too.  The other things, clothing and such, they wouldn’t fit me now anyway.”  He stared at the fire.

“No wonder you hate your Name Day.  Well, these gifts are yours.”  Lys put her hand on his arm.  “Maybe you should open the rest,” she suggested gently. 

He opened the second package.  It was a cylinder.  There seemed to be paper inside.  He pulled it out carefully, then unrolled it.  He held a beautiful map of Ferelden, which he knew must be from Loghain.  The cylinder he realized was a fine leather scroll case, which would be a generous gift in itself.  It would go on the shelf with the books.

“Loghain thought the map might look fine on the wall of your room.  He thought it would be better if I gave you his gift too.”

“It’s beautiful.  I’ll ask him to help me hang it.  I don’t want to damage it.”

“I think he would like that.”

“So, who is this one from?” he asked holding the third package.

“Mum, Papa and Fergus.  They asked Pippa and me to pick it out though.  So, it’s sort of from Pippa and me too.”  She wriggled excitedly.  “Open it!”

Alistair pulled the wrapping off.  There were two figurines.  One was a griffon carved from translucent creamy alabaster.  The other was a dragon carved from dark red marble.  The detail work on the small figures brought them to life.  “Lys, these are amazing.  Where did you and Pippa find them?”

“In Cumberland, when we went there in Bloomingtide.  I’m so glad you like them.  I hope they fit on your shelf.”

“They will.”  He grinned.  “Thank you, Lys.  Really.  I’ve never had a good Name Day, until now.  I guess ten is my lucky number.”

“Well, there is one more treat.”  Lys uncovered a tray of cheeses, apples, bread and honey cakes. 

“I guess I’ll accept that too.”

“I didn’t think you’d turn down cheese,” Lys giggled. “The honey cakes are mine, however, although I might share one.”  The two settled by the fire to read the Grey Warden book and imagine flying on a griffon to defeat a dragon.  

**9:20 Dragon  ===  Solace and August**

The next two days passed by quickly.  Although Alistair had been excused from his duties while staying with Teyrn Loghain, he felt guilty leaving the Arms Master a person short.  He and Lys went to the Armory each morning to complete his normal chores.  If the Arms Master was surprised that Lady Cousland could clean armor and sharpen weapons as well as Alistair, he didn’t show it.  With four hands, the work was completed quickly. On the last day of Solace, they rode with Teyrn Loghain, Fergus, Nathaniel, and Cailan. Again, as he had in Highever, Alistair felt a part of the group.  Cailan accepted him as always, but he was careful to make sure he call Cailan, Your Highness, even though Fergus, Nathaniel and Lys did not when they were away from the Castle.

The Funalis Festival and Tourney proceeded along the same lines as they did every year.  He attended the chantry Funalis services, went to the bonfire and Andraste play, visited the Fair and attended the Tourney, where he sat in the Cousland box.  Fergus competed in the Vespers Elimination Duel and won.  Highever showed well in the other competitions, although no Highever Knight won this year.  Arl Eamon and Arlessa Isolde kept their distance.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“Ali, do you want to ask Teyrn Loghain to go with us to your room?  He should have time before the banquet.  He can help you hang the map on the wall.”

“Do you think he’ll mind?”

“Of course not.”  She wrinkled her nose, squinting, “Why would you think that?  I’ll go get him.”

Lys returned to the Cousland apartments with Teyrn Loghain in tow.  The Teyrn carried a large package. 

“Alistair, I understand you’d like my advice on map hanging?”

“I would, Your Grace.  I have a beautiful map of Free Ferelden which should look well on my wall.”

“Your Grace?”

“Of course.  If the Hero of River Dane helps me hang a map of Free Ferelden, I would think it’s an official act and would require appropriate respect.”

“Official act!  Alistair, you’ve been spending too much time with Her Ladyship and the courtly manners she’s learning.  It’s Teyrn Loghain or you’ll get no help from me.”

“I’m learning to behave well at formal functions.  Mum says it’s required of a lady.  I intend to be a fine lady when the occasion requires it,” Lys announced archly.

Alistair rolled his eyes, as Teyrn Loghain raised one eyebrow.   Lys smirked and dipped into a perfect curtsy.

“The occasion will never arise with me, Alistair, I assure you, regardless of what Lady Cousland says.”

“Fine, fine,” Alistair laughed,  “Teyrn Loghain.  Thank you again, it’s a fine map.”

The trio walked to Alistair’s rooms where Teyrn Loghain unwrapped the package he carried, as Alistair decided where he wanted the map hung. 

“I think I would like it above my table.  Can we put it there?”

A wooden crown molding ran around the room. “Yes, we can hang it from the molding.”

“How…,” then Alistair saw the frame.  “You have a frame for it?”

“It’s a beautiful frame,” Lys said.

“Yes, I had it made in the village.  The back comes off like this.”  The Teyrn removed the back.  “Now the map goes in and the back goes on again.  Much easier to hang a map in frame.  Alistair, can you procure a hammer and a nail?”

Alistair went off to the Armory workshop and came back with the hammer and two nails.  The Teyrn had a long length of cord strung across the back of the frame.  Between them, they found the perfect spot and hammered the nail into the wooden molding.  The long cord looped over the nail and let the picture rest against the wall, its bottom two feet above the table.

“That’s perfect,” Lys advised.  “It’s straight and looks wonderful over your table.”

Loghain surveyed the room, noticing the many figurines on the shelf had been joined by Alistair’s books and the scroll case. 

“It’s a fine room, Alistair,” he complimented.  “Neat, but personal.  Very much like an officer’s room.”

“Cailan said the same when he came here with me.”

“Did he tell you he has figurines as well.”

“He did. We have many of the same ones,” Alistair added innocently.

Loghain chuckled.  “I imagine you do.”  He ruffled Alistair’s hair.  “I have a question Alistair.  I don’t see the dagger you received on your last name day?”  He looked at the weapons stand where the dagger should hang.

Alistair glared at Lys, but she shook her head.  “I don’t have it, Teyrn Loghain.  The Arl put it away for me.”

“Put it away?”

“He said it was not an everyday dagger and should be kept safe.”

“And a room in his armory is not safe?”

Alistair shrugged. 

“I see.”  Loghain stared at the arms rack for a moment. “Are there any other gifts the Arl keeps safe for you?”

Alistair hesitated.  “A book of Thedosian Myths and Tales.  It’s large with some pictures.”

“I know that book well.  Cailan and Anora both have copies.” He turned to Lys, “You probably do too.”

She nodded, “In the library.  An old one that was Mum’s”

“Well, I need to go prepare for another boring evening,” Loghain said, closing the subject.  “Will you two return with me or stay here?”

“I think we’ll stay for a while, Teyrn Loghain.” Lys replied.  “I want to see the map, now that it’s hung and flat.”

Loghain looked at Alistair, who nodded his agreement.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

As the visit progressed, Lys and Ali spent most of their time together.  They attended the Fair with Teyrna Eleanor.  They went into the village and met Alistair’s school friends.  The villagers surprised Lys when they cheerfully greeted Alistair and their children invited them join in their games.  No one bullied or teased him, unlike the boys from two years before.  They spent most evenings in the Cousland common room reading Alistair’s new books.  Teyrn Loghain spent a few evenings with them reading and telling stories. 

On the days when they didn’t attend the Tourney with the Teyrn and Teyrna, the rode, sparred or shot at the archery butts.  Fergus, Nathanial and Cailan joined them in the practice yard several times and found that none of them could match Alistair or Lys’ performance with a bow.  The older boys sparred with both Lys and Alistair and cheered them on when they sparred with each other.  Cailan was kind to the younger boy and treated him as he would a member of the Cousland family.   The two weeks sped by far more quickly than Alistair wanted.

One afternoon he returned to his Armory room to change.  To his surprise he found the Name Day dagger hanging from his arms rack and the book of Myths and Tales on his shelf, along with two other books he had received on other Name Days long past.  _Teyrn Loghain can work miracles,_ _with no fanfare or grand gestures._ _I’m lucky to have such good friends. If only we could visit each other more often._

The only saving grace was that Satinalia was not that far away.  Teyrn Loghain had already invited Alistair to Denerim for the holiday.  He would stay with Teyrn Loghain and his daughter, Anora, at their estate, Gwaren House, and he would see Lys every day.  Satinalia involved gifts and pranks.  Alistair grinned to himself, _I have to get a perfect gift and dream up a perfect prank._   It was something good to look forward to.

On her last day in Redcliffe, Lys and Alistair sat by the lake after a walk and a swim.  Her Mum frowned on her swimming with boys now that she was older, but she felt sure that if her mother knew she would make an exception for Alistair.  She wore her tunic over her smalls, securing it around her waist with a scarf to keep it from floating up over her head.  It was late in the season to swim, but the day was pleasant, the cove protected and the still warm water inviting.  The pines in the surrounding forest created an isolated world interrupted only by the sounds of birds, small animals scurrying through the under story and the susurration of pine needles and leaves in the breeze.

Sitting on her cloak to dry off in the sun, Lys and Alistair chatted, avoiding the fact that the Couslands would leave the following day.  Lys didn’t quite understand her feelings for Alistair this year.  _Well, we’re betrothed,_ _but it’s more than that._  

Lys leaned against Alistair’s side.  He slipped his arm down from the log to her shoulders.  It felt good to snuggle into him.  She felt safe and warm somehow.  She peeked up at him and found him looking at her with a look she hadn’t seen before.  She loved his eyes.  They were such a warm hazel with flecks of green.  He teased her about having complimentary eyes.  Hers were mossy green with flecks of hazel.  Before she realized it, she was leaning toward him and brushing his lips with hers.  His arm tightened around her and he pressed his lips against hers harder before they pulled apart, both blushing.  She dropped her head back to his shoulder.  They sat for some time just enjoying their closeness and the quiet surroundings.  

“I always miss you so much when we leave,” she whispered, finally.  He kept his arm tightly wrapped around her shoulders.

 “Me too.  Satinalia is only three months away, though.  It’s not two years again.”

 “No, but it’s too long.”  She leaned in and brushed his lips again.   He returned the kiss, then leaned his forehead against hers. 

 “We should get back, Lyssie.  It’s getting late.”

He took his arm from around her shoulders, and she felt…what, alone? Colder? 

He stood, still blushing, and extended his hand.  She took it and let him pull her up, then hugged him, her arms encircling his waist.  His arms went around her shoulders again as he held her tightly. 

“I’ll miss you so much,” she whispered.

Alistair had moved back to the Armory when Teyrn Loghain left the previous day.  When he and Lys returned from their swim, he had dinner with the Couslands, and then said his goodbyes.  He walked back to his room alone.  Tomorrow when he woke, he would go to the battlements to watch the Couslands leave.  He knew Lys would look back and he could wave a final goodbye.  Satinalia was only three months away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .________________________________________  
>  A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. As a new author, I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.
> 
> Special Thanks to my beta Kira Tamarion. I look forward each week to her insightful comments and suggestions on the next chapter. This chapter, as always, benefitted from her wise counsel. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and Reviewed. Thanks for the thoughtful feedback. I appreciate knowing what folks think about Lys, Ali, Loghain and their story. 
> 
> There are appendices with background assumptions on timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. in AO3 If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure (remove spaces and copy): archive of our /works/692656/chapters/1273563


	21. The Worst Satinalia Prank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvestmere 9:20 Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…"  
  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 21:  THE WORST SATINALIA PRANK**

 

 

* * *

**9:20 Dragon   26 Harvestmere  === Denerim Present Day**

Satinalia approached and winter’s first snow coated Denerim. The Cousland’s arrived in Denerim mid-day; their trip from Highever had been slowed by the storm.  As Teyrn Loghain had instructed, the Guards sent word to him when the Teyrn of Highever’s party passed through the North Gate.  Loghain gave the family some time to settle in then made his way to Highever House.  He had both good and bad news to deliver. 

**9:20 Dragon   Two Months before  ===  Denerim**

Arlessa Isolde’s actions during Funalis had so angered King Maric that he wanted Alistair removed to a safer fosterage.  Ironically, Eamon provided the solution when he attempted to send Alistair to a nearby monastery.  Just after the Funalis Tourney ended, templars from a remote Monastery some miles off the Imperial Highway between Redcliffe and Rainesfere arrived at Castle Redcliffe.  Fortunately, Bann Teagan arrived with the templars, having met them on the road.  He prevented Alistair’s removal by threatening to go directly to Denerim with a report of his brother’s unsanctioned actions.  Eamon backed down and sent the templars on their way. 

At Eamon’s insistence, Bann Teagan went to Denerim both to present Arl Eamon’s proposal to King Maric and attend the autumn Landsmeet. The Arl chose to stay home with his pregnant wife, so Teagan represented both Rainesfere and Redcliffe. He presented Eamon’s proposal after the Landsmeet, when most nobles had returned home.  Given Arlessa Isolde’s actions and Eamon’s attitude, Bann Teagan believed Alistair should be sent away from Redcliffe and Eamon’s oversight immediately.  King Maric and Teyrn Loghain agreed.  A Chantry Monastery school, albeit not Arl Eamon’s chosen one, seemed a viable option.

After Bann Teagan left, Maric and Loghain began to discuss their options.

Maric began, “Teagan proposed I allow Eamon to send Alistair to the Chantry.  Apparently, he caught Eamon attempting to send Alistair away for a “trial” visit to some Maker Forsaken monastery in the Frostbacks and prevented it.  To stop Eamon from trying it again, he agreed to present Eamon’s proposal to me.  First, that woman whips the boy, now this!”  Maric fell silent and stared off into the distance as he remembered Duncan and Fiona standing before him ten years before holding Alistair

 _All I can see is Fiona holding that perfect little baby boy and asking me to send him away. And I agreed, then sent him to the wrong man.’_ “I won’t agree to Eamon’s plan, but I do agree Alistair is no longer safe there.”

“What do you propose to do?  He’s ten.  Old enough to be acknowledged.”  Loghain replied.

“No.  It’s too soon to acknowledge him,” Maric demurred.  _I can’t risk him manifesting magic._ Maric still did not want share with Loghain his reasons and the identity of Alistair’s mother. “I think the Chantry might be the best option.  Dragon’s Peak Monastery is the best school in Ferelden.  The Crown provides support.  Its students are a mix of nobles and commoners, with a few talented orphans mixed in.  It’s close to Denerim.  What do you think?”

“It is a good school.  It’s mostly nobility, of course, but, as you say, some others.  What about his martial training?  He enjoys it and is, according to Eamon’s Arms Master, quite good.”

“You’ve seen him, Loghain.  What do you think?”

“He’s a fine archer and good with sword and shield.  Particularly for one so young.”  Loghain chuckled.  “He bested Lys Cousland last Summerday in Highever.  And you probably didn’t hear that last year he almost set Cailan on his bottom with a shield bash.”

“No.  He’s five years younger!  Cailan must have several inches and many pounds on him.”

“Well, apparently Cailan thought he should go easy on the boy, but told Alistair to give it his all.  Alistair took him at his word and did.  The next thing Cailan knew Alistair bashed him, hard.  He recovered, but, as Nathaniel Howe tells it, Cailan barely kept his balance.  If he’d fallen, Alistair's waster would have been at Cailan’s throat, with Alistair asking him to yield.  Cailan ultimately won, but found Alistair could give him a contest.  Alistair is very quick and strong.”

Maric laughed, “It’s good they get along.  Fergus has done a good job of seeing they meet without any fuss.”

“He has.  Bryce can be proud of him.  Of both his children.”

“Yes.  Lys certainly saved Alistair from much ill treatment.”  He looked questioningly at Loghain.  “Are they still friends?”

“More than ever, Maric. “

 The king nodded, clearly considering other options.  “I still think Dragon’s Peak is the best solution for now.  Unless you have another suggestion?”

“No, I wish I did, but, if you won’t acknowledge him, he can’t come here or to Highever.  As a small child, he may have passed unnoticed as he grew, but he’s very clearly a Theirin now.”

Maric winced at the implied rebuke.

“I can visit him regularly.  Maybe that will ease the transition.”  Loghain offered.  “Will you tell them who he is?” 

“I’ll tell the Grand Cleric, if she agrees to keep it secret.  That will legitimize him in the Chantry’s records.  I’ll stipulate that his identity remain a secret between the Grand Cleric and me until such time as I acknowledge him.  I’ll do that when he’s fourteen or fifteen.  In the meant time he can go to Dragon’s Peak as an orphan, with you as his guardian.  If you like, Bryce can be one as well.  Then you can both see him.  But let’s keep this between us until he’s settled in.  Bryce will surely agree, but we need to act now, not send couriers between here and Highever discussing it.”

The solution still worried Loghain.  _If I had argued, perhaps Maric would have agreed to an alternative solution.  Assuming I could have devised an alternative._   Maric adamantly wanted Alistair gone from Redcliffe.  Ferelden could not risk Orlais kidnapping a bastard Theirin.   _And I don’t trust that Orlesian sister in Redcliffe, or the Orlesian, herself, for that matter._  

In Highever, even at the Keep, he would be too visible.  Loghain could not have him in Denerim where he would be even more visible, or leave him alone in Gwaren.  Ultimately, King Maric decided sending Alistair to the Chantry would prove the safest option for all concerned.  Teyrn Loghain reluctantly agreed _._  

One worry was Loghain’s distrust of Grand Cleric Elemena.  He doubted she would keep the agreement to conceal Alistair’s identity.  He guessed she would tell the Revered Mother in charge of Dragon’s Peak; he feared she would tell the Divine.  He shook his head as he thought, _Whom do we trust?  Not the Orlesians.  Not the Chantry, which is controlled by the Orlesians.  And not the Guerrins, who may be controlled by a Chantry sister cum Orlesian bard._ He recalled Alistair saying that Lys suspected Sister Eleutheria as well. 

The agreement between King Maric and Grand Cleric Elemena stated that she would keep Alistair’s identity secret and that he would remain in Ferelden, be schooled and trained at Dragon’s Peak Monastery, and be accessible, at any time, to King Maric, Crown Prince Cailan, and Teyrns Mac Tir and Cousland.  ‘The Grand Cleric,’ he recalled pointing out to Maric, ‘was not above revising agreements at her whim.  Once under Chantry authority, Alistair could be sent to Orlais at the order of the Divine.’  Teyrn Loghain feared that outcome most.  Dragon’s Peak would bear watching.   

The other issue was Alistair’s age.  Both he and King Maric wanted Alistair to continue his martial training.  To do that at Dragon’s Peak, he would have to join the templar initiates.  Usually boys joined the Chantry for templar training at age fourteen or fifteen, the age at which they would become a squire.  Alistair was joining at age ten.  Because of this, he would require special treatment to both attend the Monastery School as a Chantry Initiate and continue his arms training with the templars. 

The agreement with the Grand Cleric solved that issue.  At Dragon’s Peak Monastery, Alistair would serve as a page to the Knight-Captain and his Lieutenants.  He would be educated as a Chantry Initiate in the Chantry Boys School prior to becoming a Templar Initiate at age fourteen.  His duties as a page would include continuation of his arms training and armory responsibilities, similar to those he held in Redcliffe.  King Maric stipulated, in the agreement that he would remain in the Chantry until acknowledged, that he would become a knight no later than age twenty-one, and that he would never take final vows or become a Templar, unless he chose to.  King Maric did not envisage a life of mage hunting and lyrium addiction for his son. 

Loghain suspected having a Teyrn as his guardian would not endear him to the other boys.  He expected Alistair would come in for his share of resentment and bullying.  The experience would not help Alistair resolve the anger and dismay at what he would likely view as a betrayal by the adults around him.  In addition, Lys could not visit.  The boy was in for some difficult years.

Maric left it to Loghain to oversee the arrangements and then to tell Bryce and Eleanor Cousland after the fact.  In late Kingsway, he traveled to Redcliffe to escort Alistair to the Monastery at Dragon’s Peak.  Arl Eamon had expected that templars would come and get the boy, but Teyrn Loghain thought that too cruel.  Helping Alistair make the transition was the least he could do.  Fortunately, King Maric agreed, overriding Arl Eamon’s dissent. 

Alistair greeted Teyrn Loghain happily when he appeared for this unexpected visit.  The happiness dissolved when the Teyrn explained his mission. 

“Why?  I like my school.  I have friends. The Arms Master and Guards like me.  Why do I have to go away?”  He trembled, trying not to cry as Teyrn Loghain instructed him to pack his things. 

Boxes had been brought in for his belongings.  A pack provided for the clothes he would need while they traveled.  The Teyrn sat on his bed watching him stuff his clothes in the pack, while two of the Teyrns guards packed his books, figurines, map and other possessions.  His unstrung bow went into a leather case, along with his quiver and arrows.  His fletching supplies and tools the guards packed away in one of the boxes.  He didn’t have that much really.  Two boxes of belongings and the pack.

Alistair sniffed, determined not to cry.  “I’ll be locked away then?”

“No, Alistair, not locked away.  It’s a school.  Many nobles and merchants send their sons and daughters there to be educated.  It’s the best school in Ferelden.  You’ll be safe there.”

“Right, so I’ll fit right in then.  Lots of bastards?”

“Alistair.”  The Teyrn’s voice was stern.

“No mustn’t mention that.  Everyone else can, but not me.”  He stopped.  “I’m sorry, but I’m content here.  I don’t understand what I did.”

“Alistair, you did nothing wrong.  The Arlessa did.  The Arl did.  Not you.”

“Safe?  I’m not safe here?”

“It would seem not given the Arlessa’s actions.  We don’t want the risk of that happening again when no one is here to help.”

Alistair shrugged.  “I keep away from her.  She only gets upset when you all visit me.”  He looked up, wiping his nose, “Please, don’t make me leave.  It’s not perfect, but this is my home.”

Loghain sighed.  “I know, Alistair.  Believe me, if we thought it safe for you to stay, we would let you.  Now-

“-well, Alistair.  On to bigger and better places.”  The Arl stood in his doorway. 

“Yes, My Lord, it seems so,” he whispered. 

“What, speak up boy.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Good, good.  Now, you have all your things I hope.”  He looked around the empty room.  “It seems you kept it clean at least.  Maybe you did learn something from the Arms Master.”

“I hope so, My Lord.”

“Well, good luck, my boy.  I don’t imagine we’ll see each other again.  I don’t visit the Circle often.”  The Arl laughed.

“The Circle, My Lord?” 

Loghain cut in, “Arl Guerrin refers to the Circle of Magi, Alistair.“  Loghain turned to the Arl.  “Not all templars serve at the Circle Eamon and not all who study at Dragon’s Peak become templars.  Alistair is young, yet, but you are correct, it is unlikely you will see him again.”

The Arl glared, then turned to Alistair.  “Well, goodbye then boy.  Good luck.”  He patted him on the head and left as Alistair replied.

“Good bye Arl Guerrin.  Thank you.”

The Arl stopped.  “Thank you?”

“For giving me a place to live, feeding me and clothing me.  I thank you.  I know I was a bother.  It was kind of you.”

The Arl looked puzzled. “You’re welcome, boy.”  He smiled.  “…but I didn’t have a choice you see.  Your father ordered it.  Now his orders have changed.  Good bye.”

Loghain put his arm around Alistair’s shoulders, but he shrugged it off.  “Let’s…just go.  At least I know my place now.  They’ll take me at the school because my father tells them to.  You’re here because my father told you to be.  Lys-”

“-Don’t Alistair.  No one told her to be your friend.  No one.”

“No, but she should have stayed away from me.  Please, let’s go.”

The first few days on the road proved disturbing, as Alistair silently and politely did everything asked of him with a forced smile on his face.  His behavior bordered on sullen, but he never yelled, argued or rebelled.  The ride to Lothering  provided Teyrn Loghain with insight into how Alistair had survived during his time at Redcliffe; and how he might survive his first months at Dragon’s Peak.  Fortunately, Alistair’s natural good nature and curiosity crept back as they left Lothering and the remainder of the ride was tolerable, if not happy.

As they rode out of Lothering, Teyrn Loghain began to discuss with Alistair why this was all happening.  Alistair, calmer than he had been, began asking questions and listening to the answers.

“Orlais is always a threat, Alistair, even after twenty years and the peace treaty King Maric negotiated with Empress Celene.  There are Ferelden traitors sympathetic to Orlais.  There are Orlesian spies who use them.  King Maric does not like to think Queen Rowan’s brother, Arl Rendorn Guerrin’s son, would prove a traitor, but he did marry Isolde against King Maric’s wishes.”

“Lys said she thought Isolde might be a spy and that the Chantry Sister, Eleutheria, was a Bard,” Alistair replied.  Loghain raised his eyebrows in surprise, as much at Lys’ insight as the observation itself.  “I hate Arlessa Isolde and Sister Eleutheria, but do you think Arl Eamon would betray Ferelden?”

Loghain shrugged.  “I wouldn’t expect him to, but then I wouldn’t have expected him to marry an Orlesian.  A Free Marcher, perhaps, given his lengthy stay there, but not an Orlesian.  Yet he did.  Who can say what a man or woman would do, if asked by someone they love?

“Alistair, King Maric…your father, hoped to leave you at Redcliffe until it was time for you to squire.  The Arlessa’s punishment of you and Lys in Solace infuriated him.  He realized, no matter how well the arrangement had worked, he needed to move you to a safer fosterage right away.  When Eamon suggested the Chantry, it seemed like a good option, although not the monastery he chose.  At Dragon’s Peak Monastery, you will receive the best education possible in Ferelden, in academics, in the martial arts and in manners.  It’s the premier Monastery School in the land.  As important to Maric and me, you will also be safe.”

“Was I in danger in Redcliffe?”

“Alistair, the Orlesian was going to have her man give you twenty lashes.  Then she convinced Eamon to send you to a small, impoverished monastery on the border with Orlais.  Yes, you were in danger.  And if she or the Sister found out who your father is you would be in more danger.”

“But I would never oppose Cailan.”

“You wouldn’t have to.  Alistair, while you may never want to challenge Cailan, there are others who would use you to do so.  A rebellion could be declared in your name.  The rebels would only need to hold you in their power.  You could be a prisoner, it wouldn’t matter.”

“I didn’t realize-”

“-I know.  I wish you never had to.  I wish I could send you to Highever.  Or have you come with me to Denerim.  I can’t.  This is King Maric’s decision.  We must abide by it.”

“Right.”  He muttered.  “So, he decides and I just make the best of it I suppose.”

Loghain offered a sad smile, “You always seem to, Alistair.”

The boy lips quirked and he almost smiled.  “It’s my greatest talent,” he replied.  “Adjusting.  Making the best of it.”

Loghain snorted.  “Not your greatest talent, Alistair, but a useful one.  Remember, there is one other benefit to Dragon’s Peak.”

“Oh?”

“It’s close to Denerim.  I can visit every month, if you want me to.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“I would.”

“I think I would like that.”

“Good, that’s settled then.”

“Can Lys and the Couslands visit?”

“I don’t know Alistair.  We’ll have to see.  Probably not at the school, but families stay in the village.  Their sons and daughters get leave to stay at the local inn and visit with them there.  Perhaps the Couslands can visit you that way.  You also get to leave for  fest days, so we can still plan on Satinalia.”

Alistair brightened.  “I hope so.  I have a prank planned for Lys.” 

After a brief stop to eat, Loghain asked Alistair to look at the terrain as they rode.  He hoped to divert the boy’s attention, but with a useful exercise, one Loghain’s own father had done with him. 

“What am I looking for?”

“Ambushes, dangers, anything out of the ordinary.”

“How will I know that?”

“By evaluating the terrain.  Ask yourself if the road narrows, or goes into a gorge or pass, or the forest comes so close it offers cover for bandits, or animals behave in an unusual manner.  Where would you set up an ambush?  If you would, then someone else might too.”

“I see, I guess.  You mean if birds suddenly fly away or the forest is very silent?  ”

“Exactly.  Just observe and mention anything you see as a potential danger or opportunity.”

They rode quietly for a while, then Alistair pulled up as they crested a hill.  “There, at the base of this hill, the road dips between two cliffs.  The cliff tops are forested so I can’t see if anyone is hidden there.  And it looks like the road could be blocked.  Would it be a good ambush spot?”

Loghain grinned.  “It would and it has been.  Our scouts have already gone ahead to check, in fact. Now, I also want you to watch for a good campsite for tonight.  What do you think it would need?”

Alistair frowned, thinking.  “Water.  But the site would have to be dry and well drained and flat and large enough for all of us.  Can it be on both sides of the road?”

“Yes, Alistair, given the size of our group, it could.  Anything else?”

“Firewood.  Deadfall and an open area so no trees or bushes would catch on fire.”

“Good.  Keep an eye out and let me know if you see such a place.”

“I’m guessing you already know where a campsite is?”

Loghain laughed.  “I do.  I’ve traveled this road many times, but I think you’ll have no trouble recognizing it.  You’ve done well so far.”

The rest of the day passed quietly as Alistair identified several ambush sites.  Loghain smiled at how quickly the boy caught on when he pointed out terrain features that would enhance or impede a battle.  _He’ll be a good soldier one day.  A good leader.  It would be a shame to waste him on the templars._  

They camped for the night just off the West Road in the campsite Alistair easily identified.  As they ate, Loghain could almost see the boy thinking through all they had discussed that day, but he asked no more questions.  Up early the next day, they rode quietly for a while. 

Finally, Alistair broke the silence.  “What should I expect when we get there?”

“You will be one of the younger students, Alistair.  You will be a page, along with several other boys, to the Templar Knight-Captain and his lieutenants.  It’s what most noble boys of your age do.”

“I’m not noble.  I’m a commoner.  Arl Eamon made that very clear to me.”

“Alistair, you’re King Maric’s son!  Forget what Eamon’s told you.  Whether you are a noble or a commoner doesn’t matter.  I’m a commoner remember?  You will be what you make of yourself.  Teryn Cousland says that every noble line has a commoner at its root… 

“…And there’s only luck and the progeny skilled enough to make the best use of it.”  Alistair completed, smiling slightly.  “Lys told me that.  So I need to recognize opportunities and then be able to take advantage of them?”

“Exactly.”

“Suppose I don’t want to be a Templar.”

“The Grand Cleric agreed with King Maric that you would never take vows unless you choose to.  He doesn’t expect you to be a templar.  It’s a safe way to get you the arms training you’ll need to become a knight.  You will become a knight by age twenty-one, but if you don’t want to take vows you won’t.”

“Good.  Choices are good.”  He was quiet for a while.  “Does he ever ask about me?”

“He asks about you every month, sometimes more often.  I tell him what the Arl and teaching Sister report and about my visits.  He cares about what happens to you Alistair.  He is very proud of what you have accomplished these past two years.”

“You know, Cailan knows who I am?”

“Not officially, but, yes, Maric and I both know that.”

“I like him.  I’m glad I got to meet him anyway.”

“King Maric was pleased as well, Alistair.  I think you have Fergus to thank for arranging the meetings, although Maric encouraged him to do so.  Fergus could have avoided you and Lys, as easily as joining you.  Fergus is a good man.”

“You and the Cousland’s have been good to me.”

“It’s not hard Alistair.  You’re a fine boy.”  He chuckled, “and you’re Lys’ friend.  We’d all have to answer to her if we weren’t, even the King.”

“Does she know about this?”

“No, not yet.  No one does beyond the King, Teagan and Arl Eamon.  Maric made the decision.  He didn’t take time to consult Teyrn Cousland in Highever.  We’ll get you settled before we tell anyone else.  Everyone in Redcliffe think you are traveling with me again.  The Orlesian doesn’t know who your father is.  Once you’re settled I’ll tell Teyrn Cousland and then I’ll tell Lys.”

**9:20 Dragon   26 Harvestmere === Highever House – Denerim**

Once he broke the news to the Teyrn and Teyrna, he asked Eleanor and Bryce to let him tell Lys.  They agreed.  Now, Teyrn Loghain sat alone in the library in Highever House waiting.  As he sipped the Antivan Brandy Bryce had provided, Loghain heard Lys coming down the hall.  _This might prove the most formidable task of all._.

“Teyrn Loghain, what a surprise!  I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow.”  Lys hugged him.  “Happy Satinalia.” 

She looked around the room expectantly.  Surprise, then disappointment and finally understanding flickered across her face.  Gazing at him impassively, she continued, “Are you here to explain why Alistair isn’t with you?  Or can I hope this is the worst Satinalia prank ever played?”

 _Maker’s breathe, the girl was ten going on ninety sometimes_.  “Explanation, no pranks.”

“Well, I see you have brandy already, so perhaps we should get on with it.”  She stood, stiffly, in front of the hearth, silhouetted by the blazing fire behind her.  Loghain sipped more brandy.

“A summary first, then the detail, if it pleases you, my lady,”  he said without sarcasm.  “The incident with the Orlesian in Solace both angered and disturbed Alistair’s father.  He decided Redcliffe was no longer a safe fosterage for Alistair.  The Orlesian, ironically, provided the solution.  She and Eamon had Templars from a local Monastery try to take Alistair, but Teagan prevented it.  Sending Alistair to a safer Chantry Monastery, however, seemed a good option.  Alistair’s father came to an agreement with Grand Cleric Elemena to accept Alistair at Dragon’s Peak Monastery as an orphan.”

She interrupted, “Alistair’s father must be very influential.”

“I suspect you know very well who he is.”

“I’d like you to tell me.”

“Lys, I can’t…Maker’s Bones, Melysande...the King.  King Maric is his father and Cailan his half-brother.  Since Alistair knows that, I suspect you do as well.”

“He and I have talked about it, but I’ve not told anyone.  Nor did he tell me.  I figured it out after I saw them together at Funalis two years ago.  I got him to admit it to me in Highever.  I understand he would be in danger if it were known.  I’m sorry, I interrupted your explanation.  Please continue.”

Loghain chuckled to himself, _I feel like I’ve been given a royal command.  She’s as bad as Anora._   A rogue thought shook him.  _I should make sure they are friends.  I’d hate to be caught between the two of them if they were enemies._   He shrugged off the image and continued his story. 

“I took Alistair to the Monastery a few weeks ago.  He will study as a Chantry Initiate in the Monastery Boys School and serve as a page to the Knight-Captain and his knight-lieutenants until he is fourteen.  When ready, he will enter templar training as a templar initiate.  He will not – listen to me Lys – he will not take vows unless he chooses to.  The Grand Cleric agreed to that.  He will be educated and trained at the premier Monastery school in Ferelden.  He will be safe, cared for and ready to take up life as a knight when he’s of age.”

He could not see her expression.  Her face remained in silhouette.  Her voice, when she finally spoke, was controlled.  He’d expected anger, tears, anything but this measured response.  “That does not explain why he is not here.  Pages and squires return home for fest days, whether they serve other noble houses or the Chantry.”

“The Revered Mother and Knight-Captain felt that it was too soon after his arrival to allow him leave to visit Denerim.  It’s a standard rule.  It’s not specific to Alistair.”

“If you took him to the Monastery only a few weeks ago, why didn’t you just delay it by a month?  He could have come to Denerim, joined us at Satinalia and then gone to the Monastery.”

“Honestly, Lys, it didn’t occur to me, because I didn’t know they wouldn’t allow him to leave again.  We agreed on a date.  I adhered to the agreement.  I should have asked more questions.  I didn’t.”

“Dates?  Agreements?  Alistair is not a battle, Teyrn Loghain.  He is a boy.  Or, perhaps not, maybe the term is pawn.  He is a pawn to be moved at the whim of his keepers.”  Her voice had risen slightly as she spoke.  Her bitter tone surprised him.  She fell silent for a while.

“Can I visit him?  Dragon’s Peak is not far from the city.”

“No, only family may visit.  He joined the Chantry as an orphan.  I act as a guardian.”

He could see her flinch at not qualifying as family. 

“So, no one will visit him?  He’ll be cut off from everyone he knows?”  Her breathing turned ragged. 

Loghain could tell she suppressed tears. 

“I can’t imagine,” she continued, “how alone he must feel.  I have so many people around me who love me.  He has no one.  We’ve all failed him.”

“Lys, he still has all of us.  He is not alone.  And he is safe – from the Orlesian and from all Orlesians.”

“I…understand.  I’m feeling sorry for myself, of course.  I hate that I can’t see him.  I hate that he’s alone.”

“Lys,  I can and will visit regularly.  I can take letters and deliver them to his hands.”

“As if my letters won’t be read once you leave,” she responded more bitterness creeping into her voice.  She sniffed, but gained control again.

“Once he’s allowed to leave the Monastery grounds, I’m sure you’ll be able to visit with him in the village or during fest days.”

“I suppose we’ll see, won’t we?  The Chantry can be very cruel.  You should talk to a mage and find out how cruel.”  She turned to face Teyrn Loghain.  “I can’t imagine Alistair as a templar, hunting apostates.”

“Lys, he won’t be a templar, unless he chooses to take vows.”

Lys stepped to the other chair facing the fire and sat, ankles crossed, hands folded in her lap.  “You rode with him from Redcliffe to Dragon’s Peak?”

“I did.  I thought accompanying him was the least I could do.  I care about him too, Lys,” he said gently.

“How is he?”

“Upset, still angry, but adjusting.  I explained, as best I could, the reasons for the decision and answered his questions.  He understands that Redcliffe was no longer safe for him.  He is most angry, as you are, about missing Satinalia with all of us in Denerim.  Neither of us were prepared for that news.” 

“I stayed for a few days to see him settled.  He likes the school, the brothers and the huge library.  It made him feel better about sending away his books.  He’ll adjust to his page duties.  He wished you and your Mum, Fergus and Papa, Happy Satinalia, and said something about star gazing and asked me to send his love to you and your Mum.”

Lys smiled sadly, “Good.  I’m glad you stayed with him.  Thank you.” 

“I have a letter for you.”  He handed her a letter sealed with his own seal.  “And a box with his belongings.  He doesn’t have his own room, so we felt his books, map and figurines would be better stored with you or me.  I thought you might want them here.  He kept his clothes and bow.”

She took the letter.  “I’ll take his things to my room here.  If he wants them, they’ll be nearby and you can get them.”  She looked directly at Loghain holding his attention, “Thank you, Teyrn Loghain for telling me yourself.  And for escorting him, rather than leaving it to the templars.  It must have been hard for you, too.”

“It was, Lys.  If I could have devised a better plan, I would have convinced Maric to choose it.  When I spoke to your father earlier, he had no other suggestions  either.  If a better option comes up, we’ll consider it.  It’s a fine school, Lys.  For now, he’ll be safe.” 

Lys stood and remained quietly staring into the fire for some time.  Her fingers massaged the letter.  “I’d like to go read this now, if you’ll excuse me.  I’m sure we’ll see each other again at some time during the celebrations.  I will have a letter for you before I leave for Highever.  Good evening, Teyrn Mac Tir.” 

He thought she would hug him again, but she didn’t.  She curtsied and left. 

_I should go home; perhaps I can ruin Anora’s Satinalia as well._

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lys found Alistair’s box and asked that it be brought to her room.  She ran up the stairway behind the servant, asked that the box be set on her table.  She sat on her bed and opened the letter.

_9:20 Dragon,  2 Harvestmere,  
Dragon’s Peak Monastery_

_Dear Lys,_

_I told you on my Name Day that ten must be my lucky number.  I was wrong.  As you must know by now, I won’t be in Denerim for Satinalia.  New pages and students may not leave for fest days during their first six months at Dragon’s Peak.  Perhaps next year.  I try to be an optimist._

_Teyrn Loghain brought me here from Redcliffe.  He’s been very kind and explained why I am safe here.  He stayed in the village to check on me during my first days at school and on duty as a page.  I was allowed to give him this letter today._

_I think I will enjoy my studies here.  The teaching brothers are kind and knowledgeable.  I believe I will learn far more than I could have in Redcliffe._

_The Knight-Captain and the knight-lieutenants seem gruff, but I’m sure they will be fair.  I haven’t seen the practice yards yet, but resuming my training will happen in time._

_There is a fine library here.  I look forward to reading.  I will let you know what I choose._

_Did you know I could draw?  I don’t think I ever told you.  It’s something I always kept secret.  I’m sorry.  I know you wouldn’t have made fun of me.  You can look in the box I sent with the Teyrn.  Some of my drawings are there.  There may even be one or two of you, although I kept my favorite ones of you here._

_I will be fine.  I just need to adjust to this new place and make the best of it.  Please enjoy Satinalia for me.  It will be much nicer, I’m sure, without the prank I planned for you.  I’ll save it for next year.  I will miss you and your family.  My happiest days have been spent with all of you.  Please wish them Happy Satinalia for me.  And give a special hug to your Mum and ask her to give one to you._

_Don’t be too angry with Teyrn Loghain.  This was not his idea.  He was good to me and explained it all.  He didn’t have to escort me here or stay and make sure I settled in.  I’m glad he did.  Be happy, Lys.  I’m fine.  We’ll see each again one day._

_Respectfully, your friend,  
Alistair_

Suppressing her tears, Lys opened the box.  She found his figurines and chuckled as she held up the golem.  The griffon and dragon they had given him for his Name Day were still carefully wrapped.  She kept the three figurines out to put on the shelf above her table.  She didn’t think he would mind.  The scroll case held his map.  His amulet lay in the box as well.  She wondered why he could not wear a holy amulet.  Then she noticed the broken chain.  _I’ll replace the chain. Maybe Loghain can take it back to him._

At the bottom of the box, she found his books and the sketches.  She took the stack of parchment and curled up against the bolsters on her bed, pulling a small blanket over her.  She picked up the smallest sketches first.  Most were sketches of dogs and horses, on scraps of parchment, the charcoal smeared from years of rubbing against other drawings; these were the work of a much younger Alistair.  The later pictures showed his growing talent.  There were some of Master Wilmot, Arms Master Robert, Guard Captain Stephan, Redcliffe troops sparring, his classmates at the Chantry school and teacher, Sister Maris, in Redcliffe.  She recognized a few of the Redcliffe children.  There was one of her mother sitting by the fire in their apartment in Redcliffe Castle.  Another showed Eleanor, Nyla and Freya sewing.  A more recent one was of Fergus and Nathaniel playing chess in Highever.  Her father and Loghain sat in another, chatting in front of the hearth in the Highever solar.  Two more were of Loghain alone.  The last few were of her.  One was of her and Pippa singing, another showed her riding Hitch and several others were just of her face or head and shoulders.  He was good.

A knock sounded on her door. 

“Who is it?”

“It’s Mum, my darling.  I thought you might want company.”

“Yes, please, come in.”

Eleanor walked in and looked over Lys’ shoulder.  “Where did those come from?”  she asked astonished.  “They’re quite good.”

“Alistair.”

“He drew them?  Did you know he could draw?”

“No.  He apologized in his letter for not telling me.  He said I could open the box and I would find the drawings.”

Eleanor sat on the bed at her side and put her arm around her daughter’s shoulder. 

Lys’ tears started to fall and she gently pushed the papers away from her, cuddling into her Mum’s side.  “I don’t want to ruin them.  Oh, Mum, how can this be a good thing?  I miss him so much.  He sounds so brave in his letter, but I know he feels abandoned.  Why must he always be alone?  How could I fail him so badly?”  She threw her arms around her mother and cried.

“Lys, you did not fail him.  He could never think that.  Grown-ups failed him, never you.”  Eleanor Cousland did not know what else to say to make Lys feel better.  She held her little girl and, failing to hold back her own tears, cried with her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. As a new author, I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.
> 
> Special Thanks to my beta Kira Tamarion. I look forward each week to her insightful comments and suggestions. Thank, Kira, for all the help on this one. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and Reviewed. Thanks for the thoughtful feedback. I appreciate knowing what folks think about Lys, Ali, Loghain and their story. 
> 
> There are appendices with background assumptions on timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. in AO3 If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure (remove spaces and copy): archive of our /works/692656/chapters/1273563


	22. His Greatest Talent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:20 Dragon Harvestmere through 9:21 Dragon Guardian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”

That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 22 – HIS GREATEST TALENT**

* * *

**_9:20 Dragon   29 Harvestmere_ **

_Dear Alistair,_

_Loghain visited me the day we arrived in Denerim for Satinalia.  He was alone.  He explained what others have decided for your future.  I wish so many things were different.  I imagine you do too.  I’m so sorry I can’t help.  I still want to be your friend, even if I can’t visit you.  I hope you want me as a friend too, even though I’ve failed you.  I wear my laurel pendant and ring every day._ _I think of you.  Always._

_Loghain gave me your letter and box.  The sketches are wonderful.  It’s alright that you didn’t tell me.  I sometimes keep a journal.  I don’t think I told you that.  I kept some of your drawings to put up in my room.  I hope you don’t mind.  Your golem and the dragon and griffon are on my table.  Please tell me if you mind.  I’ll put them all back, if you do.  I’m just holding them for you, of course.  Seeing them is somehow comforting.  I miss you._

_I’ll keep the box in Denerim, at Highever House.  That way if you ever visit Loghain and want anything returned, it will all be here._

_I’ve decided to keep my journal again.  Why you might ask?  Could my life be so interesting?  No, not really, but I do want to remember what happens from day to day, so I can tell you about it.  I can’t write to you every day…well I could, but I can’t burden Teyrn Loghain with that many letters, therefore, I will keep a journal.  Then I can choose the best stories of my not so exciting life and tell you about them.  Besides, writing in the journal is almost like writing to you every day.  I think about you when I write, and wonder what you are doing._

_I used to be able to imagine you in your room at the Armory, caring for the Guards’ arms and armor, helping Wilmot in the stables, reading in your room, or lying on the roof of the tower.  When I imagine you now, it’s all grey around you.  I miss you.  I hope you can visit Loghain at Wintersend when we are in Denerim again.  But, no, your six months won’t be up will it?  Maybe Summerday?_

_Please tell me about your life and what you are thinking.  You say you are a page for the Knight-Captain.  What are your duties?  I wonder if they are the same as Castle Cousland’s pages?  What subjects will you study?  The traditional trivium:  grammar, logic and rhetoric?  Have you begun learning arithmetic yet?  What about arms training?  Will you be able to continue with sword, shield and bow?  Loghain says Dragon’s Peak offers an excellent education.  He said, as you did, that there was a huge library.  I am babbling aren’t I?_

_Is Loghain right?  Are you content there?  Being away from the Orlesian must be good.  There must be other boys.  What a stupid thing to write – of course there are, it’s a school.  Have you made any friends?  Please write and let me know.  Loghain said he would make sure you had enough ink, quills and parchment.  I’ll suggest he bring you some colored ink and charcoal for drawing._

_You were lucky to have missed Satinalia.  I had a wicked Satinalia prank planned for you, but you did not get to be annoyed by it.  And I was not bothered by whatever you planned for me.  I know it was something clever.  I so missed being tricked._

_I need to give this letter to Loghain tonight.  I’m angry with him, so I haven’t seen him much this Satinalia.  I’ve been indisposed a lot.  Mum says that’s what lady’s become – not sick or grumpy, but indisposed.  I’m angry with everyone except you and Mum I think.  I’ve almost ruined a practice dummy, I’ve sparred with it so much.  I’ve been a brat and I think everyone, except you, I hope, and Mum, is angry with me.  Mum misses you too and sends hugs.  I do too._

_I’ll be glad to return to Highever.  I will have Guild work, classes and training to keep me busy there and Pippa.  We’ll go to Nevarra in Firstfall.  I’ll keep my Journal so I can tell you all about it.  Please remember me and write._

_Watch for falling stars.  Always._

_Your friend, Lys_

**9** **:20 Dragon   5 Haring  ===  Dragon’s Peak Monastery**

Alistair greeted Teryn Mac Tir formally, so very formally, that Loghain knew Alistair believed a Brother or Templar somehow watched their meeting.  Unfortunately, the wind and falling snow precluded a private walk in the Monastery gardens.  He would very much like to hear Alistair’s version of the past two months. 

At the suggestion, the very strong suggestion, of Knight-Captain Aaron and Revered Mother Hilda, Loghain had not visited for two months after leaving Alistair at the Peak in Harvestmere.  The Knight-Captain and Revered Mother argued that Alistair should adjust to monastery life before receiving visitors.  All new students and initiates were subject to this restriction. 

The Revered Mother reminded Loghain that most students and Initiates only received visits from male members of their immediate family – fathers, brothers, maybe uncles.  Loghain’s visits to Alistair, as guardian of an orphan, constituted a rare exception.  Normally, students who entered as orphans, as Alistair had, received no visitors.  The Revered Mother did not verbally chastise Loghain for using his influence, but her expression did.  Her disapproval, either of him using undue influence or Alistair’s bastardy or both, showed clearly.  She would not bend the rules for him, Teyrn or not. 

 _Alistair, in her mind,_ Loghain surmised, _was his unacknowledged bastard or the unacknowledged bastard of someone close to him._   _The latter of course was quite true._   _There must be other illegitimate children here.  Does the Chantry treat them all with such contempt, or was it just here?_   _Or is it me, the common born Teyrn?_

Teyrn Loghain had arrived the day before he met with Alistair.  He had spent hours either waiting in anterooms or meeting with the officials.  He met with Revered Mother Hilda, who headed the Monastery and its sister Convent, Brother Matthew the School Master of the Boys School, and Knight-Captain Aaron, who led the Templar Academy.  Academically, the news had been superlative.  Brother Matthew lauded Alistair’s progress and the extensive time he spent in the library quietly working with the Librarian Brother or reading.  Brother Matthew characterized Alistair as intelligent, witty, personable, persistent and diligent.

“He is adjusting quite well,” the Brother finished.

The Revered Mother and Knight-Captain were less complimentary.  Revered Mother Hilda complained of Alistair’s lack of piety, smart mouth, tendency to whisper during Chapel services and detailed the resulting punishments.  She did concede that he performed all punishment duties diligently, but expressed dissatisfaction that he was not adjusting better or showing proper contrition.  She acknowledged his academic success, but belittled cleverness, when not balanced by piety and contemplation. 

Teryn Loghain had disliked Knight-Captain Aaron on sight, at their first meeting in Harvestmere.  The templar epitomized the type of noble Loghain despised.  Arrogant and supercilious, he barely offered Loghain the respect due to him as Teyrn of Gwaren, General of the Armies and Advisor to the King.  His demeanor had not changed with the passage of two months. 

P _erhaps I should have brought Bryce with me,_ Loghain thought _._   In discussing whether Teyrn Cousland would exercise his right to visit Alistair, both Teyrn’s agreed that only Loghain would visit at first.  Too much attention would likely do Alistair more harm than good.  Once he was settled, they could alternate visits and have Alistair stay with them at the Dragon’s Rest.  Only then could Lys visit too.  

Loghain sat before the Knight-Captain’s desk wishing he could cow haughty nobles with a look, as Bryce did.  _Bryce has a way of bringing obnoxious nobles to heel,_ Loghain chuckled to himself, _with a look Lys called the ‘Cousland glower’.  It shocked errant nobility when emanating from the normally affable Teyrn.  Then again, the Cousland line was one of the oldest in Ferelden.  That alone put most nobles in their place before Bryce glowered, much less opened his mouth_. 

Given Alistair’s diligence and competence at the Armory and Stables in Redcliffe, Loghain expected he would have no problem serving as a page.  At Dragon’s Peak he served as one of five pages who alternated service among the Knight-Captain and his two Knight-lieutenants.  The pages at Dragon’s Peak ranged in age from ten to thirteen.  A young boy served as a page by running messages, serving at meals, caring for the knight’s arms and armor under supervision of a squire or the knight and learning manners, courtly behavior and the basics of combat.  The knight or lord for whom the page worked would usually treat him fairly, but a page went through intensive training. 

According to Knight-Captain Aaron, however, Alistair’s service was wholly unsatisfactory.  He described Alistair as sloppy, dilatory, incompetent, stupid, smart mouthed – his censure went on for some time.  When Loghain asked for details, however, none were forthcoming.  The Knight-Captain would not outline Alistair’s duties, his daily schedule, what, specifically, he did poorly or what training had been provided to enable him to understand his new role.  From what he could tell, Alistair’s inability to predict the irregular and unknown future needs of the three templars constituted his main failure.  Or, perhaps because he was a bastard or a commoner or favored by the Teyrn of Gwaren. 

Loghain wanted to rail at the fool, but restrained himself, realizing it would only make things worse for the boy.  He had limited influence in the Monastery, unlike Redcliffe, where he could invoke the King’s name with Arl Eamon.  He felt his first misgivings about this solution, as he left the Knight-Captain’s study.  He had hoped for some guidance from the Knight-Captain so he could help Alistair adjust.  With nothing provided, he could do little when they met.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

After greeting Teyrn Loghain, Alistair remained standing. 

“Refreshments will be provided, Your Grace.  Would you prefer wine, ale, mead or cider?” he asked.

“Sweet cider, Alistair.  And perhaps some bread and fruit…or cheese?”

“Yes, of course, Your Grace.  If you will excuse me, I’ll see to it.”  When he left, Loghain assumed he was giving the order to a servant in the hallway.  His visit with Alistair was limited to two hours and the hourglass was turned by the brother in the anteroom when he arrived.  Instead, he soon realized that Alistair had gone to the kitchens himself.  _Of course, you fool,_ _they want to limit your time with him.  How better, than to send him running around the Monastery while you sit here._   Eventually Alistair returned with a tray.

“Put it on the table between us, Alistair, we can serve ourselves.”  Alistair hesitated, unsure of how to respond, then he placed the tray on the table and moved to stand by Loghain’s chair.

“Alistair, please be seated.”

“I’m sorry, Your Grace, I do not mean to be disrespectful, but I am not permitted to be seated.  It is forbidden for a page to sit before his betters.”

“Is it permitted to eat?”

“No, Your Grace.  The refreshments are for you.  I only serve.”  Loghain sighed.  He feared he had already earned the boy a punishment by asking him to be seated and forcing him to speak up to a Teyrn.

“Alistair, I understand.  I don’t want to suggest you break any rules.  Suppose you tell me how you spend your days.  Brother Matthew tells me you do well in your studies.”

“I rise at first light.  There is a bell to ensure we wake for Prime15.  I wash, dress, attend Prime services to hear the Chant of Light, then I see to my morning duties for the Knight-Captain and lieutenants.  I attend morning classes, then serve the templars at dinner.  I have more classes in the after dinner or I work in the library.  After supper I return to serve the Knights.  We say a part of the Chant at Vespers after supper and Compline before bed.”

“And your free time?”

“I have very little free time, Your Grace.  If I find myself with extra time, I study the Chant of Light or go to Library.”

“What duties do you perform for the Knights, Alistair?”

He squirmed, reluctant to answer.  “I clean their rooms, Your Grace, serve them at table and clean and mend their clothing.”

“Their clothing or their arming clothes, arms and armor?”

“Their clothing, Your Grace.  I am too clumsy and stupid to touch their arms, armor or arming clothes.  The other pages tend to those items.”

“I see.  What about arms training?”

“I am not ready for arms training, Your Grace.  I am too slow and awkward to use weapons.  My bow…”  he stopped and took a deep breath, “my bow has been confiscated.  Templars do not use bows only crossbows.”  Loghain raised his eyebrows, but Alistair remained expressionless.

“I brought some letters for you.  You should have time to read them and write a reply for me to take.”  Loghain said, moving to a less fraught topic.

“Thank you, Your Grace, you’re very kind.  Would you mind if I wrote on the reverse of the letters?”

“No, but I brought...”  He noticed the slight negative nod.  “On the reverse is fine, Alistair.”

Alistair remained almost expressionless as he read Lys’ letter.  A sniff, a quick swipe at his cheek and stiffly hunched shoulders as he wrote the response provided the only indications that he missed her.

**_9:20 Dragon      5 Haring_** ****

_Dear Lady Melysande,_

_Thank you for your kind letter.  I am well.  I am adjusting to my new life here in the Monastery._

_Brother Matthew and the other teaching brothers are good to me.  I learn a lot in all the areas you mentioned including arithmetic and also geography and geometry.  Those subjects will help me with map reading, which is an important skill I must acquire.  The brothers appear pleased with my efforts._

_I do enjoy the fine library, but I try not to let the templars know.  Library punishment is preferable to kitchen punishment, so I let them think I hate it.  Clever of me, yes?  I help stack books on the shelves and in the presses.  I’d like to learn to repair the illustrations, or even make them.  I think I might be good at it.  But that’s a brother’s task, so I probably won’t be allowed._

_Learning to be a page has proven difficult for me.  Being slow and clumsy, I too often disappoint the templar knights I serve.  The other pages often try to ‘help’, but being clumsy, I often trip or drop things when they do.  I hope to live up to the knights’ high expectations one day.  My responsibilities will increase as I improve.  At present, my page duties take up all my time, when not at my studies.  I hope to train with blades again someday._

_I will be interested to hear news of you and your family.  Keeping a journal should be useful and help you exercise self-discipline.  As I am learning here, self-discipline is an important virtue.  I hope you have a good trip to Cumberland.  You should see many stars from shipboard._

_Respectfully always, Alistair_  

“Please let me know if you approve it, Your Grace.  If not, I will throw it in the fire.” 

Loghain scanned the brief note thinking,  _Lys would read far too much between the lines, particularly the comment about his fellow pages.  No letter, however, would be worse._   “I find it most acceptable, Alistair.  The news about your studies will be appreciated.”

The knock on the door alerted him that their allotted time was ending.  Loghain rose and walked around the table where Alistair now stood and surprised Alistair by hugging him.  He whispered in his ear as he did, “Lys sends her love and will beat me senseless if I tell her I didn’t pass it on.  We’ll talk when the weather allows a walk in the garden.”

He backed away, tousling the boy’s hair as he did. 

“Thank you for your visit, Your Grace.  I hope you have a safe journey back to Denerim.” 

Alistair walked to the door and opened it for Loghain, bowing as he did so.  Loghain walked out wondering why he didn’t just grab the boy and take him along.  He could be a page at Gwaren House and to the Void with anyone who remarked on his resemblance to the King; but it was too soon to question Maric’s decision to place him here.  The King would argue for more time to allow Alistair to adjust.  King Maric could be blind and stubborn, too.  And Alistair was his son, not Loghain’s.

Loghain first went to the Knight-Captain to ask about the bow.  The Knight-Captain deigned to see him, but refused to return Alistair’s bow to him.  Angry, Loghain insisted he would take it with him; that it was not the Chantry’s to keep if Alistair would not use it.  The Knight-Captain finally sent one of the initiates with Loghain to retrieve the bow.  He would take it to Gwaren House and hold it for Alistair.

Loghain rode back to the Dragon’s Rest Inn in the village.  He had a comfortable room with a cozy fire.  A well-prepared dinner awaited him.  He saw other students here with their fathers or brothers.  He had initially thought to bring Alistair here when he visited, but Revered Mother and Knight-Captain made it clear that they would not allow Alistair to leave the Monastery premises. Only so many exceptions would be made for the orphan.  _I should ask Maric to go back to the Grand Cleric and insist that I be extended all privileges of a parent._   Maric might do that if the prohibitions based on orphan status persisted.

**9:21 Dragon  17 Wintermarch  ===   Dragon’s Peak Monastery  ===  Almost two months later**

Loghain sat quietly as Alistair read Lys’ letter.  He had managed to make this brief trip to Dragon’s Peak in between First Day 9:21 and Wintersend festivities.  He skipped the meetings with officials, this time, and spent only the allotted two hours with the Alistair.  Again, sleet and cold prevented a walk within the Monastery grounds.  He sat quietly while Alistair read Lys’ letter.

**_9:21 Dragon 12 Wintermarch_** ****

_Dear Alistair,_

_Pippa and I journeyed to Cumberland, in Nevarra, after Satinalia.  We returned before First Day.  Fortunately, neither of us gets seasick, as the voyage to Cumberland proved rough.  Mum and Arlessa Alys survived the voyage well, although many of the passengers did not.  So much sickness and bad weather kept us below decks and made it a most unpleasant trip.  We didn’t see any stars._

_I read a lot to keep my brain occupied.  Fortunately, the lanterns attached securely to the bulkhead, so they did not swing as the ship pitched.  Usually, the voyage to Cumberland, even in winter, is quite pleasant.  I love staying on deck, watching the sailors, the changing seas, the stars at night and the sea birds.  Not so fond of staying below decks, but enough whinging.  The return trip proved very pleasant with many starry nights._

_In Cumberland, Pippa and I joined Mum and Arlessa Alys on all their business visits for the first time.  I know it sounds boring, but I want to learn more about the wool business and I’m learning about banking with Cousin Samuel Haris.  I find it interesting and it keeps my brain occupied.  I am learning to exercise the self-discipline you spoke of and remain focused.  No more impetuous, impulsive, thoughtless actions for me._

_Before we left Highever, Pippa and I designed another plaid, which we will have made up into cloaks and shawls.  A plaid is a multicolored cloth with stripes going in both directions, by the way.  Very long plaids were used by the old tribes as clothing.  They wrapped the Plaid around themselves over their smalls as their main form of dress.  Well, I think they wore smalls.  Ewww.  What if they didn’t?  (Did you smile?) Each clan had its distinctive color and pattern or structure.  What Pippa and I are designing are new patterns, using new colors.  It’s fun, we learn a lot.  It also keeps my brain occupied._

_I keep writing that don’t I?  When left to its own devices my brain seems to think of you a lot.  I wonder what you are doing, if they treat you well, if you are content….  I miss you.  I miss looking forward to Summerday or Funalis knowing I will see you.  If I think too long I get sad, hence the brain otherwise occupied attempts.  Back to Nevarra…._

_We visited Mum’s family at the Haris estate north of Cumberland for a few weeks.  Usually I only visit Cumberland.  Mum always goes to the Haris Estate, but, until this year, I stayed in Cumberland with Arlessa Alys and Pippa.  My only visit to the Estate was five years ago with Papa and Fergus._

_Mum’s cousin, Samuel Haris, heads House Haris.  It’s one of the biggest banking and trading houses in Thedas.  House Haris provided the investments, which helped Mum and Arlessa Alys build the cloth and dye trade in Highever after the rebellion.  Mum’s grandmother was a Haris, hence our connections.  Cousin Samuel’s wife, Mira, died last year.  They had no children.  This year Cousin Samuel requested that Mum bring me on her visit.  I’m not sure why Cousin Samuel wanted to meet me again, but I enjoyed the visit and learned a lot from him._

_On the way to the Estate, we visited the burial place of Cousin Mira.  Nevarran’s burial customs are odd.  They actually preserve and bury bodies.  They don’t burn the dead on a pyre and bury only the ashes.  It’s creepy.  They call the burial places mausoleums and they are huge.  Some are like houses.  Nevarrans start building them when they are alive, so they will be ready when they die.  You’d almost think they believe the dead live there and use the furnishings.  Yes, I said furnishings.  Ewww.  As I said, creepy, but it’s their practice and, apparently, the Chantry allows it, as they are devout Andrastians._

_The Haris Estate is west of the Imperial Highway and south of Nevarra City, which is on the Minanter River.  The estate  is huge, with mines in the hills to the west..  The house has offices for the banking and merchant business and apartments for family members, private guests and business guests.  There are stables, farmland and quarters and practice yards for the Free Company Cousin Haris sponsors to guard the House’s caravans.  Captain Aleksi, leader of Hrothgar’s Wrath, let me shoot and spar in the practice yards.  I beat all the pages and a few of the squires at the archery butts. Apparently you are the only person alive, our age, who can defeat me.  My blade work needs improving, but I learned a lot while there from the Wrath’s Arms Master and trainers._

_I also showed them mounted archery.  They found it interesting, at least they said so.  The Arms Master thought it might be useful for their scouts.  He could imagine them harrying bandits lying in ambush.  He didn’t laugh at me anyway or call me stupid like Arl Howe did.  I’d like to visit every year, I think.  I’d especially like to visit with you.  You’d like training with the Wrath._

_We returned to Highever at the end of Haring just in time for First Day.  We’ll be leaving for Denerim in a week for Wintersend and the Landsmeet.  Well, Papa and Fergus will attend the Landsmeet.  I’ll just be in Denerim.  I’ll give this letter to Loghain.  I’m a little worried about you.  I hope life in the monastery has improved since you last wrote._

_Please remember me and write.  Looking for falling stars.  Always._

_Your friend, Lys_

“She keeps busy, Your Grace.”

“She does, Alistair.  She misses you.  Keeping busy is her way of coping with that.”

“Other boys go out with their families to the village or home on holidays.  Will I be permitted to go with you after six months?  The Knight-Captain says orphans can’t leave ever.”

“I intend that you will, but I can’t promise, Alistair.  I won’t build false hope.  I will talk with the Revered Mother.”

“I see.  And if not, I should adjust?”

“You should adjust.”

“Adjusting, it’s a poem, you know.  About Fereldans.  I think someone wrote it during the Rebellion.”  Alistair proceeded to recite it.”

_I'm from Ferelden_  
 _I don't expect too much_  
 _If the world ended today  
_ _I would adjust_

_Fereldan people_  
 _They will surprise you_  
 _‘Cause they're not expected  
_ _To do too much_

_We’re like Andraste_  
 _We will try harder_  
 _We may go further_  
 _Cause we never think  
_ _That we are good enough_

_I'm from Ferelden_  
 _I don't expect too much_  
 _If the world ended today_  
 _I would adjust_  
 _I would adjust  
_ _I would adjust 16_

Loghain wasn’t sure how to respond.  He wanted to say you should expect far too much, but given Alistair’s life experiences he hesitated to encourage him to do that.  Before he could react, Alistair spoke.

“I know, you would say I _should_ expect too much.  I get tired of disappointment, though.  I will adjust.  I don’t give up.”

“I know you don’t Alistair.  You do adjust.  You’ve done well here.  It’s, as I’ve said, a good talent to have.  I don’t always adjust well.  And I know you never give up.  Persistence is something you and Lys have in common.  She could learn flexibility from you.  She has trouble adjusting, sometimes. 

**9:21 Dragon  25 Guardian  ===  Denerim  ===  A month later, after the Landsmeet**

“Again!  You’re visiting that boy again?  I might as well have stayed at the palace if you’re leaving as soon as I arrive.”  Anora had moved to her own apartments in the palace the year before when Cailan turned fifteen and she eighteen.  It gave them time together and with King Maric in preparation for their marriage and rule.  She often returned to Gwaren House, however, when her father stayed in Denerim.  She had arrived at Gwaren House a few days before after the Landsmeet ended.  “Father, what is the attraction this illegitimate child has for you?  Or is it something else?  Do you have a woman?” 

“Anora!  No, Anora, I do not, as you say, have a woman.  As for the boy, as you persist in calling him, I have an obligation to see him well taken care of.  His name, by the way, is Alistair.”

“Just whose son is he father?”  she asked, eyes narrowing.

Loghain groaned.  “Anora, he is not my son, although I would be proud to call him such.  Why don’t you come with me?  Dragon’s Peak is a lovely village with a fine Inn.  After Wintersend and the Landsmeet, it will do us both good

to get out of Denerim.”  _Perhaps,_ he thought, _I can set your powers of persuasion to work on Revered Mother Hilda.  Maybe you can convince her to allow the boy more freedom._

“You can visit the Girls School and the Revered Mother.  The Crown endows the schools.  You may take an interest in them when you and Cailan marry.”

Cocking her head, Anora thought a moment, “I would like to see education improved in Ferelden.  We should have a University, as they do in Orlais, so our children do not have to travel to Orlais or elsewhere and our scholars have a home.  Dragon’s Peak may be a model to build upon.  That is not a bad idea, Father.”

Loghain smirked.  “Occasionally one does occur to me.”

Anora mouth quirked, but she ignored the remark.  “And can I meet this boy?  …this Alistair?”

“I am the only visitor he is allowed.  Only men can visit the Boys School.”

“Surely you bring him to the Inn for dinner or take him riding?”

“Sadly, no.  The Revered Mother doesn’t permit him to leave the School.”

Anora frowned.  “Father, who is he to be kept – well, imprisoned?  Why does his father allow it?  Or, is it his mother?  Or both?  Father, is he Maric’s son?”

Loghain remained silent.

“You can’t tell me.  You won’t tell me.  Does Cailan know?  I will get Cailan to tell me you know.”

“I can’t control what you and Cailan discuss, Anora.”

“You want me to convince the Revered Mother to give him more freedom, don’t you?  This has nothing to do with me accompanying you.  It’s about the boy.”

“Anora, it is about you accompanying me.  I always ask you to come along when I travel to Tourneys or elsewhere and you usually decline.  Then you complain that you never see me.  Would I like you help with Revered Mother Hilda?  Yes, I would.  Do I want your company?  Yes, I do.  Would I enjoy working together with you on this problem.  Yes, immensely.  Will you come?”

“Working together?”

“We used to be quite good at solving problems together.”

“Yes, we did.  Alright, I’ll come along.  You can tell me about the boy and his problems as we ride I suppose.  We are riding?”

“Yes, unless you prefer your carriage.”  He replied with frown.

“No, that is, I think I’ll have it brought along.”  She smirked.  “I’ve gotten quite soft, Father, I hate riding in the rain.  So just in case…”

Shaking his head, Loghain gave in.  “Fine, the road to the Peak village is a good one.  The carriage should have no difficulties.”

**9:21 Dragon  27 Guardian  ===  Denerim**

Loghain walked out of Highever House with Lys’ most recent letter.  Anora sat astride her horse, Grey Willow, seething at the detour on their route out of the city.  Dressed in leather breeches, finely woven woolen tunic, long leather riding jerkin, which split from the waist to fall to either side over her legs, and knee boots, both Anora and Grey Willow shifted restlessly. 

“Does she know who he is?”  Anora hissed.

“Probably.  So will you once you see him.”  Loghain retorted.

“So he is Maric’s.  How old is he?”

“Ten.”

“So, after Rowan died.  That, at least, is a blessing.” 

They rode silently for a while. 

“Cailan said he liked him.”

“So you did speak with Cailan?”

“Yes, of course I did.  Cailan wants King Maric to acknowledge him.  I told him he was a fool.”

“Why?  Acknowledging him, providing him with a title, lands and, one day, a wife will tie him to Cailan.”

“Pah!  Until the first opportunity to oppose Cailan rises.  Every unhappy noble or bann will go to him.”

“You haven’t met the boy, Anora.  He would be a help and support to Cailan, not a threat.  He’s smart enough not to be drawn in by false promises from perfidious nobility.”

“He’s ten, you said.  You can’t know that.”  Eyes widening, she looked him.  “You plan to marry him to the Cousland girl.  She’s already plotting.  How can you be so blind to her.”

“She’s ten Anora, well eleven now.  He’s her friend.  She wants to make him safe and happy.  That’s what Lys does for those she loves.  Fixes things.  Makes things better.  She’s a Cousland, Anora, duty drives them all.  It’s in their bones.  Sometimes it’s their demon.”

“Andraste’s Blazing Fingernails, the only Cousland I can tolerate is Eleanor and she’s a Burke, not a Cousland.  The rest of them can go to the Void.”

“Why?  Anora, of all the nobility in Ferelden, the Couslands have treated me as a friend, an equal, a man.  Eleanor Cousland has been nothing but kind to you when you came to Denerim and court.  Why do you dislike them?”

“I do love Eleanor.  She’s guided me quite gently, but firmly when I needed guidance.  She’s a good friend.  It’s the rest of them I dislike.  You’re taken in by their charm, Father.  You should talk with Arl Howe to get another viewpoint.  Teyrn Bryce Cousland, that paragon among men, has usurped Rendon’s place and blocked his success.”

“How in blazes has Bryce done that?” Loghain exploded,  “Rendon Howe is ass who has benefitted from Bryce’s actions.  Howe is his vassal.  Howe and Amaranthine only profit from Bryce’s trade and diplomatic achievements.  Not to mention that Eleanor has a hand in that as well.”

“You know that Highever once belonged to the Howe’s?”

“I didn’t, no.”  He chuckled.  “When was this Anora, in the age before Andraste under the Tevinter Imperium?”

“No, the usurpation occurred in the Towers Age.  When the line of Conobar Elstan died out.”

“Usurpation?  Maker’s Toenails, that’s a strong term, Anora.”

Unfazed, Anora continued, “The Guard’s Captain, Sarim Cousland, who was not a Howe relation, took the Castle from the rightful Howe heirs.  Then, during the Black Age the Couslands rebelled against Amaranthine and set up an independent bann.  Eventually they became Teyrns and the Howes became their vassals.”

“Anora, any farmholder, bann or Arl can change allegiance in Ferelden.  It’s not treachery to do so.  Sometimes war results, because the former liege wants to retain the income, but it’s not usurpation.”

“I know that, Father.  The Couslands still acquired Highever by deceit.”

“Did they kill the last Howe bann?”

“No.  The last bann was, as I said, Conobar Elstan.  His wife, Flemeth, killed him.”

“Anora, that’s a tale.  No one even knows if it’s true.  In tribal times, lands did not necessarily pass through blood inheritance.  Howe can’t base a claim on events that happened in the mists of history.  Howe can change his allegiance, however.  It would be ugly and messy, but if he wants to he can try.  The risk will be losing the banns pledged to him.  His Arling is one of the few that has banns pledged to it.  Many of them may choose to stay with Highever and that would be their right.”

“He understands that, Father.”

“Since when did you become so friendly with Rendon Howe, Anora?”

“I haven’t, exactly.  I am friendly with his daughter, Delilah.  The Arl and I have spoken when I visited her.  He is quite astute.”

“Astute?”  Loghain snorted.  “I see.  She’s much younger than you, isn’t she?”

“Several years, not that it matters.  She’s very unhappy.  The Couslands rejected her as a wife for Fergus.  They say Fergus may choose his own wife.  The girl too, apparently.  But then she’s already chosen, hasn’t she.  Maric’s bastard.”

“Anora!  His name is Alistair.  If you can’t call him that, stick to ‘the boy’.  And no, Lys and Alistair are not betrothed.  There is no agreement between Bryce and Maric.  The Couslands haven’t seen Alistair since he left Redcliffe.  Lys wants him safe and happy.  That’s all.” 

They rode in silence the remaining few miles to Dragon’s Peak village.  Loghain hadn’t realized the depth of his daughter’s dislike of Lys Cousland.  Or about her budding friendship with Rendon Howe.  Did jealously bind them?  Howe certainly resented Cousland influence at court.  Was Anora jealous because Loghain spent time with Lys?  He knew Anora resented Maric for taking him away from Gwaren when she was a child.  But Lys Cousland too?  And now Alistair?  He didn’t fully understand his daughter’s thinking.

* * *

[15]Prime occurred around 6 AM

[16] With apologies to John Gorka!  His song is called “I’m from New Jersey” .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. As a new author, I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.
> 
> I realized after I posted that this chapter puts the story over the 100K word mark. Pretty amazing for someone who never wrote a word of fiction until six months ago. Thanks for reading and taking an interest in Ali, Lys and Loghain's story. Hope it continues to intrigue you. Thanks for reading.
> 
> Huge thanks to my beta Kira Tamarion. I look forward each week to her insightful comments and suggestions. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and Reviewed. Thanks for the thoughtful feedback. I appreciate knowing what folks think about Lys, Ali, Loghain and their story. 
> 
> There are appendices with background assumptions on timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. in AO3 If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure (remove spaces and copy): archive of our /works/692656/chapters/1273563


	23. The Princess of Persuasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:21 Dragon, Guardian; Dragon's Peak Monastery and Village

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 23:  THE PRINCESS OF PERSUASION**

 

* * *

**9:21 Dragon   27 Guardian  ===  Dragon’s Peak Village**

The Dragon’s Rest proved as pleasant as her father promised.  Their apartment offered two bedrooms, a common room, and quarters for her lady’s maid and his manservant.  Loghain did not have a valet; he had instead a man, called Byron, who could perform valet services, but also act as bodyguard and companion.  Anora had a lady’s maid.

“My Lady, your bath is ready.”  Anora’s lady’s maid, Erlina, entered the common room where Anora and Loghain were enjoying a light supper. 

“Thank you, Erlina, I’ll be there directly.  Father, I’ll have my bath now and rejoin you later.”

Loghain watched his daughter leave.  Her maid’s voice grated.  He recalled the argument when he found out about Erlina…

_“Anora, she’s Orlesian.  Why would you hire an Orlesian maid?  You’re giving Orlais access to the palace, now that you will move to your apartments there.”_

_“Father, not every Orlesian is a spy or a bard.  Some are just what they appear to  be.  Erlina is a lady’s maid and an elf.  Do elves become Orlesian bards? Of course not.”_

_“They do, Anora.  I once knew an Orlesian elven bard.  I also knew an Orlesian elven Grey Warden mage.  Both women.”_

_“Pah.  Erlina is neither bard nor spy and certainly not a Warden or a mage.  She is an excellent lady’s maid.  She came highly recommended.”_

_“By whom?”_

_“Rendon Howe, if you must know.  He thought to hire her for his wife, Juliana, but she is so ill, she no longer had need a maid’s services and Delilah already has a lady’s maid she likes.  I did inform His Majesty, of course, through his seneschal and he had no objection.”_

_“Of course not,” Loghain retorted, exasperated, “when did Maric ever object to an elf?”_

He recalled that he had stalked off and Anora had kept her Orlesian lady’s maid. _I could have handled that conversation better._  

**9:21 Dragon   28 Guardian  ===  Dragon’s Peak Village & Monastery**

The Dragon’s Rest Inn served the nobility who visited their children at Dragon’s Peak.  Fereldan nobles offered many a third son or daughter to become sisters, brothers or templars.  Some even sent sons or daughters simply for the education the Girls and Boys Schools provided.  The Chantry selected a few promising orphans each year and sent them to Dragon’s Peak as well.  Occasionally, the bastard offspring of a noble found their way here, but it was unusual.  The Chantry preferred orphans to bastards.  Most illegitimate sons or daughters went to less prestigious monasteries.  Alistair was an exception.

Although enrolled as an orphan, Alistair’s illegitimate status was not kept secret, only his parentage.  Grand Cleric Elemena adhered to the letter of the agreement.  _Maric should have been more specific.  He always overlooks the details_.  To the Revered Mother, the Knight-Captain and many of his peers, Alistair’s illegitimate status mattered very much.  They wondered who he was and if his parents would claim him. 

Loghain and Anora arrived at the Monastery shortly after Terce[17] services.  The Revered Mother received them both.

“Teyrn Mac Tir, Lady Anora,” she greeted them, in a far more friendly tone than Loghain had experienced on prior visits.  “It’s an honor to have you here.”

“It’s an honor to visit Ferelden’s finest Monastery, Revered Mother Hilda,” Anora purred. 

“I understand, Lady Anora, that you would like to visit the Girls School, while you father attends to his duties towards his…ward.”

“I would, Revered Mother.  I understand I cannot visit young Alistair, although I certainly wish him well.  I hope Father can take him for a walk in the gardens, perhaps, since the weather is so pleasant today.”

Revered Mother Hilda frowned slightly, then recovered her smile.  “Of course, My Lady.  Teyrn Mac Tir, I’ll let Knight-Captain Aaron know that the boy may accompany you to the gardens today.  I believe you’ll meet with Brother Matthew first, Your Grace.  The Knight-Captain will have his instructions by the time you meet with him.”  She turned back to Anora, “My Lady, if you’ll accompany me I will take you to the Girls School.  Teyrn Mac Tir, I think you know you way to the Brother’s study.” 

Anora gave her father a slight smirk and followed the Revered Mother.  Loghain turned in the opposite direction towards the Boys School shaking his head and grinning. 

Brother Matthew extolled Alistair’s performance again.  When Loghain asked about Alistair’s welfare outside of the classroom, the brother pursed his lips then replied, “Some bullying occurs in the dormitories, of course, but the teaching brothers tolerate no bullying in their classrooms.  Students leave their rank, or lack thereof, at the door.  Andraste and the Maker care little for status.”  His eyes twinkled when he added, “And I think Andraste enjoys a good joke.  Alistair should gain her favor that way as well.” 

Loghain groaned, but the Brother continued,  “Alistair could be less irreverent and more pious, but overall his behavior and performance are exemplary.  Most brothers appreciate his wit and humor, although some would prefer a bit less of it.  All in all, I think Andraste will be well pleased with him.”

“I’m glad to hear he does so well in his studies.  Does he still frequent the library?”

“A bit too much, I’m afraid, although the librarian, Brother Hywell, enjoys his help.  As I said, there is bullying in the dormitories and Alistair stands up, not only for himself, but for others less able to defend themselves.  It’s admirable, but results in punishments.  Unfortunately, the Novice Master can be harsher than I would choose to be.” 

Loghain looked confused, so the Brother continued, “Alistair’s current status is as a novice or Chantry initiate, but one who is promised to the templars.  As such, he stays in the templar dormitory with the templar initiates and pages, not the regular dormitory for Chantry novices.  Novice Master Laur and Knight-Captain Aaron oversee the templar dormitory.

“I see,” said Loghain.  “Alistair has known bullying before.  I can understand his defense of younger or weaker boys.  I’m not sure how I could tell him to stop.”

“I agree.  It’s a conundrum he will have to work out for himself.  He has limited the bullying for himself and his friends.  He is apparently quite the proficient fighter.  He and another, older page, Cullen, join up to defend the weaker boys, apparently.”

“So, at least he’s made friends?”

“Yes.  He’s quite popular with a group of boys.  He is personable, funny, helps others with their chores and studies, a fine boy.”

Loghain relaxed.  “That’s good news.  I’m glad to hear he’s adjusting.  Thank you, Brother Matthew, for telling me all this.”

Loghain left to visit the Knight-Captain expecting a different version of events from the dour templar.  He was not disappointed.

“He’s a brawler.  His behavior must change.”

“Perhaps…”  Loghain hated not confronting the man directly, but it seemed a chance to change Alistair’s regimen, “…perhaps arms training would use up his excess energy and teach him the proper was to fight.  Would he be likely to meet the same boys?  Maybe they would work out their differences.”

The Knight-Captain rubbed his temples, “A soldierly solution.  Perhaps not a bad one.  I shall have to think about it, Teyrn Mac Tir.”  _The man after all is the General of the Armies and led men in the Rebellion.  He does know how to handle these sorts of things._

Loghain stood, “Can I meet with him now?  My daughter is with the Revered Mother.  I would like to join her after I meet with Alistair.”

“Of course.  The sergeant will take you to him.  I understand he is permitted to walk with you in the garden today.  Sergeant!”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Teyrn Loghain and Alistair walked through the budding gardens.  At this elevation so far south, spring came late, but the last of the crocus and early daffodils promised better weather.

“Our first chance to talk, unobserved,” Loghain said.

“What do you want to know?”

“The truth?  The good and the bad?”

“I enjoy classes, that’s good.  I miss training, even if it’s only with sword and shield, that’s bad.  I get in trouble fairly often for…brawling, that’s true.  It’s the kitchens or the library for punishment, which is not too bad.  No whippings at least, that’s good.  I have some friends, that’s very good.  I am closest with Cullen.  He’s an older page.  The only one who hasn’t picked on me or pulled nasty pranks.  His father’s a minor bann somewhere and promised him to the templars.  He’s the fourth son; his sister is here too in the Girls School.  She’s the third girl and the youngest.” 

“Quite a…prolific family.”

“That’s what Cullen says.  He likes it here though.  He wants to be templar.  His Da let him chose – templar or brother.”  He hesitated.  “I miss you and the Couslands and Nate and Cailan, that’s true too.”

“Brother Matthew tells the story a bit differently, Alistair.  He says you fight to protect your friends.”

He gave Loghain his mischievous smirk, then said in a deeper voice, “The reason does not matter.  It is not my place to protect the other boys.  That is the job of the dormitory proctors.”  His voice returning to normal, he added, “That’s Novice Master Laur’s opinion.  Of course, the proctors are the boys who pick on my friends.”

“You quite a mimic, Alistair.  How much trouble does that get you into?”

“Not much.  I’m pretty careful who hears.”

“So, do you mimic me?”

He grinned.  “Only to Lys.  She thought it rather good.”  He grew serious again.  “And before you ask: no.  Never Cailan or King Maric.  I don’t bring my old life in here.  Ever.”

Loghain nodded.  “I always suspected you were a smart boy.  Now, you confirm it.”

Alistair grinned.  “Cullen and I have become good friends.  It’s not so bad here.  I can stand it.  The only thing I miss is training.  I imagine that will come with time.”

“I think it will, Alistair.  You’re the new boy.  They will tire of bothering-“

“-Father.”  Alistair watched a young woman walk up to them with the Revered Mother in tow.  “and you must be Alistair.”

Alistair bowed.  “Yes, My Lady Mac Tir.  Greetings Revered Mother Hilda.”

“Alistair, this is my daughter, Anora.  She accompanied me on this trip.”

Alistair took the hand Anora extended and bowed again.  “My Lady Mac Tir it’s an honor to meet you.”

The Revered Mother’s eyebrows raised in surprise.  Anora smiled.  “What excellent manners.  You could be at court.”

Alistair frowned slightly, “Thank you, My Lady.”

“I persuaded Revered Mother Hilda to allow me to meet your young friend, Father.  I hope you don’t mind.  The Revered Mother agreed he could join us for dinner if we leave now and return him by nightfall.”  She smiled smugly.  “That is, of course, if you want to join us, Alistair?”

He looked at the Revered Mother.  “Thank you Revered Mother Hilda for allowing me to join the Teyrn and Lady Mac Tir.  And thank you, Lady Mac Tir, for arranging this.  It would be an honor.  ”

“Not at all boy.  Spending time with them can only benefit you.  Although your manners surprise me as well.  I hadn’t realized you were so well brought up.  Enjoy your dinner, Alistair.”  Revered Mother Hilda turned to Anora.  “You may meet your father and the boy at the Town Gate, My Lady.  He will need to freshen up before he goes with you.”

Alistair bowed again as the Revered Mother and Anora left through the gate to the Girls School.

“That was a surprise.  Anora’s charm can work wonders when she chooses to employ it.  Let’s get you back to change for dinner, my boy.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Anora’s agreement with the Revered Mother required that Alistair, Teyrn Loghain and she dine in their rooms.  Upon returning to the inn, Anora ordered a simple dinner be served to them in their common room. 

“It’s pleasant being away from the Monastery for a change.  Thank you, My Lady,” Alistair greeted Anora when she joined her him and her father.

“You don’t like the Monastery, Alistair?”

“Oh, no, My Lady, I do like it.  It’s just nice to have a change.  Most of the other boys visit with their families, but this is the first time I’ve been permitted to leave with Teyrn Loghain.”

“I see,” Anora replied.  “Then I am happy I could arrange it.  Tell me, Alistair, what do you study?”

“The trivium and quadrivium, My Lady.  I studied all the trivium subjects of  grammar, logic and rhetoric in Redcliffe.  I had begun the quadrivium subjects of arithmetic and geometry before I left Redcliffe, as those are critical to martial training.  I haven’t studied music, but I had a book on the stars, constellations and astronomy, which I studied on my own from the castle tower roof.”

“So, you could do more than just read and figure when you arrived?”

“Oh yes, My Lady, I attended the Chantry school in Redcliffe.  I was told I did quite well.  At least, I was not behind when I began classes here.”

Loghain noticed Anora’s look of surprise and flashed a smug grin.  Apparently, she had not believed him when he described Alistair as intelligent and personable.

“You do not wish to study music, Alistair?”

“It’s not that I don’t wish to, I don’t think I have the talent.  I love to listen, but I can’t carry a tune or play.  I’d much rather draw.  I think I would enjoy working with the illustrators or fixing the old books I see in the library.”

“Do you draw well?”

“I do well enough, I’m told.”  He smiled shyly.  “I could draw you or His Grace, My Lady, if you like.”

Anora laughed.  “Yes, I’d like to see that Alistair.  Look on the table by the window.  There are pens and parchment there.  What should we do while you draw?”

“Just talk as you normally would.  Ignore me.” 

Loghain raised an eyebrow.  “Well, Anora, did you have a good conversation with Revered Mother Hilda?”

“I did, Father.  The Girls School is lovely.  The girls also learn both the trivium and quadrivium, which surprised me, as well as more maidenly arts.  They boast a weaving, spinning and needlecraft workshop.  The girls also draw and work on illustrations.  There is a music room with guitars, lutes, horns, flutes, violas, drums and other instruments.  They learn herbal and gardening skills.  As they show their aptitudes they may specialize, becoming healers, conservators, administrators…all the various specialities to which a sister or mother might aspire.  Some even become templar initiates.  Of course, some girls come only for the education and leave as lay sisters, or they marry or become artisans or governesses.  The opportunities are quite diverse.”

“I think the Crown does well to support the school.  Perhaps we should consider sponsoring some worthy young orphans or less fortunate girls in the future.  Or perhaps establish another school, as I’m sure the qualified young people far outnumber the spaces available.”

“Only humans?”

“Yes, father.  I’m not sure Dragon’s Peak is ready for elves, no matter how worthy.”

“Then perhaps a separate school for elves in the Alienage?  You spoke of improving conditions there.”

“Perhaps.  Although Arl Urien is a stumbling block and Vaughn Kendall will be worse.”

“Um…my lady?”

“Yes, Alistair, do you need us to pose?”

“No, my lady.  I’ve finished.  It’s quite simple, but I think it’s adequate.”  He handed her the drawing.  

Anora’s eyes grew big as she viewed Alistair’s sketch.  The line drawing focused on their faces, only hinting at their torsos and the table between them.  She passed it to her father.

“Lys said you drew well, Alistair, but I had no idea.”

“Alistair, this is quite amazing.”  Anora added.  “I will ask the Revered Mother to allow you to pursue your drawing.  This is a gift and should not be ignored.”

“Thank you, my lady.  I would like that.  I like working in the library and scriptorium.”

“Then I shall see that it is part of your duties.  I will also mention that you should pursue your arms training.  I think Father said you had been prevented until now?”

“Yes, my lady.  Knight-Captain Aaron says I am not ready.”

“Yet, Father calls you a fine archer and you trained with sword and shield in Redcliffe?”

“Yes, my lady.  Templars don’t use bows.  I can use a sword and shield.”

“Then we shall see that it happens.”  She regarded Alistair silently.  “You surprise me.  I know Father has extolled your virtues, but, in truth, I did not expect such a pleasant, talented, well-mannered young man.  I’ve enjoyed our dinner.  I hope we do it again.”  She looked at her father, smiling ruefully.  “Father, I shall be happy to accompany you on future visits.  I suppose I shouldn’t have doubted your assessment of Alistair.”

“Well, Anora, I am hardly the expert on good behavior outside the military.  You skepticism is understandable.”

“I have a request, my lady, if I may.”  Alistair ventured.

“Of course.”

“I believe you and Teyrna Cousland are friends.  She has been very good to me.  I would appreciate it if you would give her my best when you see her and tell her I am happy here.”

“I would be pleased to do so, Alistair.  The Teyrna is indeed a friend.  It’s kind of you to remember her.  Is there anyone else?”

“No, my lady.  Just the Teyrna.  I am sure she will mention your greetings from me to the Teyrn.”

Loghain stood.  “Well, if we are to return on time, we should leave now, Alistair.  Will you come with us, Anora?”

“No, Father.  I’ll say my goodbyes here.” 

Alistair walked over to Anora and bowed.  Before he could say anything, she stood, put her arm around his shoulders and leaned down to kiss the top of his head. 

Blushing, he tried not to mumble as he thanked her for dinner and the chance to leave the monastery. 

As they walked back to the Boys School, Loghain commented, “You made quite a conquest.  Anora makes me look gregarious when it comes to warming up to someone.  She’s expert at courtly banter and intrigue, but not quick to like anyone.”

“I didn’t do anything special, Your Grace.”

“You were yourself, Alistair.  That was all you needed to do.”  Loghain smiled.  “And you were, I think, purposefully clever in requesting that she give your regards to Teyrna Eleanor.  Am I right?”

“Yes.”  He replied looking a guilty.  “Lys told me Lady Anora and Teyrna Eleanor were friends.”

“…and?”

“And that she believes Anora doesn’t like her.”

“She’s right, they grate on each other.  Anora and Lys are too much alike I think.  Although Anora lacks Lys’ compassion.  Anora was rather passionate and impulsive as a girl.  She’s learned to control it, as Lys will.  I’m afraid they will never be friends.  I fear that Anora feels a bit uncomfortable around the old nobility, like the Couslands.  She responds by disliking the people.  I only hope she and Lys learn to respect each other.”

They walked into the courtyard of the Boys School.  “Thank you, again, Your Grace.  I enjoyed meeting Lady Anora.”

Loghain smiled.  “I’ll see you in a month, Alistair.  By then, I hope your arms training will have begun.  Apparently, the future Crown Princess has far more influence than a broken down old soldier who just happens to be a friend of the King.”

Alistair, smiled.  “Not so old, Your Grace, and definitely not broken down.  Thank you, for dinner and for visiting me.”  He waved again as he walked through the Gate.

**9:21 Dragon  5 Drakonis  ===  Dragon’s Peak Monastery**

“So, boy, I’m told you can handle a sword and shield.”

Alistair stood at attention before the templar arms trainer.  “I have been taught a beginner’s skills, Trainer.  I have much yet to learn.”

“The arming clothes you wear are yours?”

“Yes, Trainer.”

“At least you know not to call me sir.  Here are the boy’s leather practice armor, the wasters and the wooden shields.  Pick out a set of arms and armor that pleases you and come to the practice yard.”

Yes, Trainer.”  Alistair dressed, found a sword, shield to his liking, and went to the yard.  No one else was there.  He began practicing the forms taught to him in Redcliffe.  The trainer watched him from the dark doorway to the armory for a time and then walked into the yard.

“What are you doing, boy?”

“My forms, Trainer.”

“You’ve been taught well.  Who is the trainer in Redcliffe?”

“I was taught by Arms Master Robert, Trainer.  I worked in the Armory, as well.”

“So, you know how to care for arms and armor?”

“Yes, Trainer.  And horses.”

The Trainer stood quietly.  Alistair worried he had made a mistake.  “Alright, let’s see what you can do, boy.  You’ll spar with me, now.”

“Yes, Trainer.”

Alistair took his stance, shield on his left arm held close to his body and sword raised parallel to the ground at shoulder height in a defensive form.  The trainer nodded his approval, then moved to attack.

Alistair blocked the attacks, keeping a defensive posture through several thrusts and parrys as he learned his opponent’s style.  On the next attack he stepped forward as he blocked.  As he hoped, the trainer did not step back.  On the next attack the trainer closed and Alistair stepped forward again blocking, then pushing forward with his shield in a strong bash to the trainers right hip.  He simultaneously blocked the trainer’s sword, throwing him off balance.  Alistair twisted away and caught the trainer’s right ankle tripping him.   Had he been taller and stronger the trainer would have gone down.

The trainer stepped back, surprised.  “That’s a good move, boy.  You’ve been taught well.  I’m just not sure where to place you.  You’re too small for the initiates classes, but you’re better than most of the other pages.  The two older ones can challenge you.”

“May I speak, Trainer?”

“Go ahead, boy.”

“I could still spar with the other pages.  Perhaps I could help them learn.  I could work in the armory.  I am used to sparring with older boys, so Cullen and Theobald won’t intimidate me.” 

“Is that what you did in Redcliffe.”

“Yes, Trainer.  Well, not the helping the other boys part.  I was the youngest.”

“Good suggestions, boy.  I’ll speak with the Knight-Captain.”  The trainer smiled.  “By the way, I am Arms Master Aengus.  I know Robert.  He sent a letter recommending you to me.  I can see that he trained you.  You’re good, Alistair.  You learned well.  I’m sorry the Knight-Captain didn’t send you to me sooner.”

“Thank you, Arms Master.”  He had trouble stifling his grin.

“Be here tomorrow immediately after Nones, boy.  Your classes should be finished by then, correct?”

“Yes, Arms Master.  I will be here.” He finally gave in and smiled.  “Thank you.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“So, did he fail completely.  Is this farce over,  Arms Master Aengus?”

The Arms Master ignored the Knight-Captain’s remarks.  “Alistair is a well-trained young warrior.  I will work out a training schedule for him.  He can assist with training the other pages.  I will have one or two of the older pages spar with him.  Theobald and, perhaps, Cullen can work with him several times a week.  I’ll also use him in the armory, as he has been well trained in care of armor and arms.  He may be able to help with the initiates and certainly with your other pages.  They know nothing.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am more than serious, Knight-Captain.  I’m just surprised you didn’t send him to me sooner.  I know the Arms Master who trained him.  He’s a fine young warrior.”

Knight-Captain Aaron frowned.  _The boy, Alistair, was not what his initial informants had reported_...  His contact from Redcliffe said the boy would prove a failure and be a thrown out of Dragon’s Peak within six months.  At which time he was to ensure the boy went to some small monastery in the Frostbacks.  Initially the Revered Mother, who resented any noble foisting a boy upon them, was his ally.  When the boy excelled at his studies and the future Crown Princess favored him, that changed.  Seeing more endowments in the future, the Revered Mother quickly began to favor Alistair.

Then the boy performed acceptably as a page doing everything requested of him with no complaints, in spite of purposeful harsh treatment.  He had not whined or reported the other pages’ hazing.  A group of boys in the dormitory, who  defended the weaker boys against bullying, befriended Alistair.  Even Novice Master Laur decided he could not single out Alistair for punishment, without punishing several popular, well thought of youths.  Finally, the Revered Mother ordered Aaron to send Alistair to Arms Master Aengus for an evaluation at Lady Mac Tir’s suggestion.

 _Now Aengus tells me that not only is the boy trained and has talent, but he can work in the Armory, too._ Aengus had the Knight-Commander’s respect.  He could not ignore his requests, any more than he could the Revered Mother’s.  To the Void with those fools in Redcliffe.  As far as he was concerned, from now on the boy was no different than any other page, except for one thing:  he could not leave the monastery, unless Revered Mother Hilda approved. 

**9:21 Dragon   Justinian  ===  Dragon’s Peak Monastery**

Alistair chuckled, as his friend Cullen landed on his back.  “You may be older and taller, but I’m stronger.  You can’t defend against my mighty shield bash.”  He reached out his hand to help Cullen up.

“I don’t know where you get the power to bash that hard.”

“It’s keeping my arm bent.  I can always push out.  If your shield arm is extended you just push.  When it’s bent you hit and then push once your opponent is off balance.  I always keep my shield in close and arm bent.”

“I see.  No one ever told me that.  Where did you learn it?”

Alistair looked distracted for a moment.  “Someone in Redcliffe, when I trained there, before I came to the Monastery.”

“Is that who comes to visit you?”

“Um…no.”

“The brothers and templars keep your visitor secret.”

“I suppose.  He’s just checking on me.  It’s not important.”

“I’ve heard he looks like Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir.”

“Why would a Teyrn care about me?  That’s silly.”

“Is it Teyrn Mac Tir?”

“Yes.”  Alistair conceded, “but please don’t tell everyone else.”

“And his daughter?”

“Yes.  The Lady Anora comes to see the Revered Mother.  She’s taken an interest in the Girls School.   Teyrn Loghain took an interest in me in Redcliffe.  He thought I was worthy and helped me to get a place here.  So when Anora comes to Dragon’s Peak, he often joins her and they visit me too.  That’s all.”

“Then why the secrecy?”

“You’ll have to ask the Knight-Captain or Master Laur.  Or maybe Revered Mother Hilda.  They insist on secrecy, but it’s better no one knows.  I don’t get special treatment.  The Teyrn’s just kind to me.”

“Oh.  We all thought…”

“What?”

“That maybe you were his bastard.”

“I am a bastard, but not Teyrn Loghain’s.  I’m nothing special, Cullen.  I was lucky to meet him in the stables in Redcliffe.  He helped me.  That’s all.  So, are we going to finish this?  Or just chat?”

“If you’re ready to be beaten into the dirt, let’s finish.”  Cullen grinned at his younger friend and hoisted his shield.

 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

In addition to the two older pages, Cullen and Theobald, Alistair’s fellow pages, Cuthbert, Brian and Ronald, had become friends once the Knight-Captain lost his hostile attitude.  The boys respected Alistair’s prowess with sword and shield and his willingness to help them.  They also appreciated his always clever, sometimes impious humor.  The four found themselves in the kitchens scrubbing pots at least once a month for some prank or another. 

Alistair’s friendship with Cullen soon included them.  The four young pages joined with the older pages to form their own group of friends.  They found the older templar initiates bullied them less when in the company of Alistair, Cullen and Theobald.  The friendships would continue even as Theobald and then Cullen moved on to become templar initiates.

Alistair enjoyed his time in the scriptorium.  He still performed mostly menial tasks, but each week one of the illustrators or scribes spent an afternoon teaching him.  Occasionally Alistair was allowed to add a flourish to a letter.  Or the scribe would allow him to copy a short passage.  As much as he enjoyed his arms training, he could also see how one could make a life surrounded by books and scrolls.  If his father’s promise held and he could choose not to be a templar, perhaps he could make a life as a lay brother.

 

  **9:21 Dragon  Kingsway  ===  Dragon’s Peak Monastery**

Although Alistair could now join Teyrn Loghain at Dragon’s Rest, the Teyrn had to agree not to bring visitors, other than Anora, when he visited.   The Teyrn visited every month or two throughout the year, but Alistair did not visit Highever during Summerday in 9:21 Dragon or Redcliffe during Funalis.  Anora argued that she had influenced Alistair’s treatment enough for now.  That perhaps next year she could request more privileges of the Revered Mother.

Good news went along with the bad.  Alistair thrived after Anora’s intercession.  His success at arms training raised the Knight-Captain’s estimation of him.  His duties as page became more normal:  assisting with arms and armor, serving at meals and working in the armory.  He enjoyed sparring with his fellow pages.  His skills earned him their respect; his considerate help their friendship.  His studies did not suffer.  His older sparring partners enjoyed teaching him. 

Alistair maintained his excellence in academics.  He continued to work in the library.  The Armarius, the Chantry brother who directed the scriptorium, allowed him to observe the brothers’ work and allowed him to practice on scraps of parchment and vellum.  As he became busier and more well liked his punishments diminished along with his impious sarcasm.  All in all, by Firstday 9:22 Dragon, he had adjusted well to his new life.  

The continuing proscription on visitors and visits to Denerim provided his only disappointment.  He and Loghain hoped the ban would be lifted as he succeeded.  He and Lys continued to exchange letters, but he felt their bond weakening as they lost hope of seeing each other again.   He knew he tended to bury his feelings for her as time passed because it hurt less.  He suspected, in spite of her chatty letters, that she did the same. 

 

* * *

[17] Services held around 9 AM.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, follow, subscribe and/or bookmark. As a new author, I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.
> 
> Huge thanks to my beta Kira Tamarion. I look forward each week to her insightful comments and suggestions. Any errors are mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and Reviewed – most recently Eastern Violet, Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, pollyana24 and KatDancer2. Thanks for the thoughtful feedback. I appreciate knowing what folks think about Lys, Ali, Loghain and their story.
> 
> There are appendices with background assumptions on timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. in AO3 If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure (remove spaces and copy): archive of our /works/692656/chapters/1273563


	24. Alindra and Her Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:22 Dragon at Dragon's Peak and on the Waking Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

****Chapter 24:  ALINDRA AND HER SOLDIER** **

 

 

* * *

**9:22 Dragon   2 Bloomingtide  ===  Dragon’s Peak Monastery**

Alistair unfolded the parchment.  _Have I read this four times already, or five?_   Loghain had delivered Lys’ letter when he visited in Drakonis.  Rereading her letters was comforting; he liked knowing Lys still thought of him.  She would be in Highever now.  With Summerday just past, the Tourney would be in progress.  Two years ago, he had been there with her.  It now seemed like someone else’s memory in another life.

**_9:22 Dragon  13 Guardian_ **

_Dear Alistair,_

_It seems as if I haven’t seen you for years.  I’ll be twelve soon.  It seems that we’re no closer to visiting than we were over a year ago at Satinalia.  Loghain tried to explain why you couldn’t visit during Wintersend this year.  Maybe one day they will run out of stupid reasons and I’ll see you again.  Loghain tells me to be patient.  Anora tells me she will try to have you visit Denerim soon.  I try not to be jealous of her, but she gets to see you and I don’t.  I try to believe their promises.  Oh Ali, I miss you, but I’ll stop complaining now._

_Teyrn Loghain and Lady Anora tell me you are doing well in your studies and martial training.  That makes me happy, but does not surprise me.  Nor does it surprise me that you have friends and that everyone likes you.  I’m so pleased Dragon’s Peak worked out for you.  It’s a good school and you deserve the best._

_Mum, Papa and Fergus send you their best.  Mum sends hugs and thanks you for the greetings Anora always mentions.  I know you mean them for everyone.  You’ve become very clever (perhaps devious…but in a good way?) sending them only to Mum through Anora._

_I’ve been at Highever House since Wintersend.  With the Landsmeet held every day last week, I have little to do.  Papa and Fergus attend, and Mum does too, sometimes.  I’ve been spinning, reading, and playing my new vihuela.[18]  Fergus brought it back from Antiva for me – it’s sort of like a lute, only its back is flat, not curved, and it has six double strings. His friend, Oriana, in Antiva plays and she thought I might enjoy it too._

_Pippa did not come to Denerim this year.  The Broughtens don’t always come, preferring to spend Wintersend in Highever.  After the fest day, Arl Broughten comes to Denerim by himself for the Landsmeet._

_There are other girls in town, but I seem to be in a gap between the older girls, like Habren and Delilah, and the younger ones.  Oh, this is a terrible letter.  I’m just whining.  I’m so sorry.  My life is, of course, not awful.  I’m just feeling lonely and I want so much to see you and talk with you and be your friend again._

_I don’t recognize you in your letters.  You write as if I’m a stranger.  Am I, a stranger?  I worry, but can do nothing, only be upset with Loghain.  Which I have been, with no result._

_If it matters, I love you and miss you._

_My life is the same.  We visited Nevarra in Firstfall and Haring, as we do every year.  I spent my time with Cousin Samuel learning about banking and House Haris business.  I went to the Haris estate again.  The Wrath’s Arms Master said my sword work had improved._

_I fill my days in Highever with bow and blade training, riding, working with the Guild and the local House Haris factor, attending classes with Aldous and  perfecting my maidenly skills (don’t laugh - I’ve become quite the accomplished dancer and sit like a lady, with hands folded and ankles crossed, at tea)._

_Umm about riding…for my Name Day, well a bit early actually, Mum and Papa gave me a horse.  I still have Hitch, of course; I’ll always ride him.  He’s easy and his gait is so comfortable.  My new horse, however, is a Courser.  Very fast.  Very agile.  Supremely beautiful.  She (mare, well filly really, she’s not two yet) is a chestnut with a black mane, tail and stockings.  I love her already and have named her Starfall._

_Lately, I read all I can find about Grey Wardens.  It’s an interesting way to look at Thedosian history – from the perspective of how Blights & the Wardens influenced it.  (Please don’t roll your eyes and snicker.  I am _not _weird!  Well, not all the time anyway.)  Are there Grey Warden histories in the library at Dragon’s Peak?  Maybe you could read one and tell me what you think in your next letter._

_There’s so little to say about Denerim.  Mostly I just want you to know I think of you.  Every day._

_Still watching for falling stars.  I miss you._

_Always, Lys_

Alistair folded the letter and put it into the small chest by his bunk, blinking away the tears that threatened.  He had written a short response to Lys’ letter, but even as he wrote, he knew it sounded formal and stilted.  _Perhaps their friendship had been only happenstance and nothing special._   _She had asked if she was a stranger._   _Was she?_   Those few years in Redcliffe and the visit to Highever did not seem real anymore.

He and Loghain never spoke about the Couslands or his life before Dragon’s Peak.  They had come, separately, to the same conclusion:  discussing the past served no purpose.  Those few years of happiness seemed like a dream.  He knew the Couslands had been good to him, but he had buried those feelings once he believed he could not see them again. 

Writing to Lys hurt, so he kept his letters short; her chatty letters, however, pleased him.  He was glad she still took time to write.  He kept them all and re-read them.  If his father acknowledged him, then perhaps they could continue to be friends.  If not, well he had friends here, although the more he learned the less he wanted to become templar, but maybe a brother.  Maybe he could convince them to allow him that choice.  Otherwise, he was reasonably content.  He breathed deeply and composed his face.  He wanted to present a pleasant demeanor as he went through his day. 

**9:22 Dragon   11 Justinian  ===  Dragon’s Peak Monastery  ===  1 month later**

“The boy may not leave the Monastery building.”  The new Knight-Lieutenant grabbed Alistair, roughly, as he and Loghain attempted to walk to the Monastery gardens from the barracks. 

“I suggest you check with your Knight-Commander, Knight-Lieutenant.  Alistair may accompany me outside.  Now let him go, or I shall speak to him.” 

“He has permission, Knight-Lieutenant Quincey.  Let the boy go.”  Quincy turned to face the Knight-Captain Aaron.  

“Ser?”

“He has my permission and that of the Revered Mother, Quincey.  Let the boy go.” 

Loghain and Alistair proceeded to the gardens. 

“What was that about?”

“He’s a new Knight-Lieutenant.  Just showing his authority.  As far as he knows, I’m an orphan with no privileges.  Knight-Captain Aaron will let him know what privileges I have.  It happens every time a new Knight-Lieutenant comes in.  Usually the Knight-Captain sets things right before you arrive.”

“I see.”

“The Lady Anora didn’t accompany you this time?”

“No.  There is some affair at the palace which I will, sadly, miss but which she felt obligated to attend.”  Loghain smiled.

“Sadly?”

“Yes, well, I had to express appropriate regrets to King Maric and Anora before I left.  This will be my only chance to visit for a few months, Alistair.  I’m off on a trip around the Bannorn with Cailan and Anora.  Visiting banns and arls, showing the Mabaris rampant and checking on militia readiness.”

“Sounds…intriguing?”

“Hah!  Be glad you don’t have to go.  The travel is fine, it’s the visits to every bann’s manor, keep or castle.  Nobles constantly  cozying up to the Crown Prince and future Crown Princess.  Disgusting really.  I’d rather stay in my tent.”  He continued walking through the gardens.  “I wanted to see you before we left and let you know I wouldn’t visit again until late Solace or August.  Sorry to leave you alone for so long, but it can’t be helped.”

“I understand, Teyrn Loghain.  I’ll be fine, but I will miss the visits.”

They continued to a sand pile in the rear of the gardens.  Alistair took a rake and smoothed out a section.  Loghain took a stick and the rake and began to create a topographical map, while Alistair retrieved a collection of stones and sticks from behind a loose brick in the wall.  He and Loghain would use them as markers on the sandy battlefield.

“I will too, Alistair.  I enjoy our little strategy sessions.  You’re getting quite good at our war games.  Actually, I’m afraid you’ll beat me, so I’m prolonging my sense of superiority.”

Alistair laughed.  “I intend to practice while you’re gone.”

Loghain groaned.  “I think I remember Lys Cousland once hoping to lose a sparring match to you, because it would show how well your training had progressed.  I think I feel the same.”  He noticed the brief look of pain that flickered across Alistair’s face.  “She’s well, you know.  She’d appreciate a reply to that letter I brought.”

Alistair frowned, taking a deep breath.  This time Lys’ letter had described Summerday at Highever.  Loghain had been there with King Maric and Cailan.  As usual, she wrote that she missed him.  Apparently, she had ridden off on her new filly alone too many times and gotten in trouble with Teyrna Eleanor for deserting their guests.  “No, she’s better off thinking I’ve forgotten her.  Lys just feels sorry for me.  We have nothing to say to each other anymore.”

“That’s not what she thinks, Alistair.  I don’t think you do either.  Please don’t hurt her by not writing.”

“You’re right I suppose.  It’s just been so long…”

“I know Alistair.  I assure you Lys never fails to remind me exactly how long.  If I can change that, or if Anora can, we will.”

“I’m always surprised she even remembers me.”  He murmured, more to himself than the Teyrn.  “I’ll have a letter for her before you leave tomorrow…Your Grace.”  He bowed like a courtier, hiding his discomfiture.  He should not have been so open with the Teyrn about his feelings.

“Now there’s the obedient young templar I know and love,” Teyrn Loghain teased back. 

Alistair smirked in spite of himself.  “Yes, Your Grace.  Pious and biddable, that’s me.”

**9:22 Dragon   11 Justinian  ===  Aboard the Green Dragon on the Waking Sea**

Lys crawled over the railing at the bow of the ship and into the net hanging below the bowsprit.  Her Mum, Pippa and Lady Alys slept in their stuffy cabins.  She had waited until deep breathes and gentle snores filled the night before sneaking out to her perch in the net.  The bowsprit above her blocked a part of the view, but by shifting around she could see most of the sky.  The waning crescent moon provided no light.  Once in the netting, she wrapped herself in her grey cloak.  She was invisible to the night crew in the crow’s nest and on the rear castle’s steering deck above the cabins.

Cooled by the breeze and the spray off the Waking Sea, Lys curled up to enjoy the view of the sky as the Green Dragon sailed toward Cumberland.  She could pick out more constellations now.  She had been making a point of learning a new one each month when she went to the Tower roof at home.  Ferelden’s notoriously poor weather often obscured the sky with haze or clouds.  In a more gentle climate she could have learned one each week.

She ran through Alistair’s letters in her mind.  They were so short, that she had little trouble remembering each.  She told herself that he found it hard to write to her because he missed her.  Teyrn Loghain, however, assured her that Alistair had adjusted well to Dragon’s Peak, that he had friends, was well liked and seemed quite content.  _So maybe he just didn’t care anymore, but wrote to be kind?_   _Would he even do that?_ She twisted the laurel band on her right hand.  _Stop.  It will slip off and drop in the sea and then you will be upset._   She relaxed back into the net.  _He holds it inside when he’s upset.  You know that.  He has to think it through first.  You had to sit with him and wait for him to talk.  He probably won’t say anything in a letter.  So I’ll just keep writing, I guess.  One day, we’ll be together and laugh about all this._

Hugging herself, she thought of Summerday.  _It’s been two years.  I promised to take him to the mountains and to the elephant seal beach.  I made so many promises I haven’t kept.  I don’t even care if he comes to Highever.  Why can’t I go with Teyrn Loghain to Dragon’s Peak.  If Anora can go, why can’t I?  I think she enjoys telling me about him and knowing I can’t visit.  Loghain said she persuaded the Revered Mother to let him go into the village with them.  I bet she could persuade her to let me visit if she wanted to._

Lys sighed.  _Stop.  You don’t know that and you’ll just make yourself more upset.  You like visiting Cumberland.  You like learning the business from Cousin Samuel.  Just stop.  You have too much time to think on board ship.  Tomorrow you will go on deck and practice your forms.  You’ll present a happy face._

She shifted her position again to look for Alindra and her lost soldier shining in the sky across a band of stars from each other.  The two lovers, separated by a cruel father and death, had been placed in the heavens on opposite sides of a dense waterfall of stars.  She always found it ironic that the Areth satellite traveled from just below Alindra to just below her lost soldier over the course of its circuit.  _If only one could jump aboard, traverse that star fall and rejoin the other._   She dozed then, lulled by the motion of the ship, the creaking of its timbers and the slap of the sea against the bow. 

She woke as the horizon brightened.  _Better get back on board.  I’m really not in the mood for a punishment._ She slipped over the bow railing easily and stood leaning against it as the sun rose.  The Waking Sea Islands filled the western horizon.  They should clear the Narrows between the Fereldan bann of Waking Sea and the Free Marches mainland today.  She turned toward the rear castle and her cabin, schooling her face into a pleasant expression appropriate to a sunny summer morning at sea.

 **9** **:22 Dragon   26 Haring ===  Dragon’s Peak Monastery  === 5 months later**

Teyrn Loghain and Alistair shook the snow off their cloaks before entering the Dragon’s Rest Inn.  The Teyrn had surprised Alistair, arriving in the midst of a snow storm.  Alistair had permission to spend the night at the Inn with him, a new privilege. 

_I’d rather they let the Couslands visit._

Reading his thoughts, Teyrn Loghain patted him on the back.  “One step at a time, Alistair.  The Chantry moves slowly, I’m afraid.”

“You said Teyrn Cousland had the same visiting privileges as you.  You bring Anora.  Why can’t he visit and bring the Teyrna and Lys?  Well, Fergus too if he wants to come.”

“Teyrn Cousland and I decided at the start, that I should be the one visiting.  Two Teyrns visiting could bring too much attention to you.  When we get more privileges, I’ll bring the Teyrna and Lys.  Probably with Anora.  Then they can also visit the Girls School, so it will seem like they did not come just to see you.” 

He watched Alistair run his hand through his hair to his neck, which he then proceeded to rub.  He had so many of Maric’s habits. 

“I know.  It seems like playing games.  It’s necessary to keep you safe.  Anora doesn’t’ want to press the Revered Mother with too many requests.”

“Right.  Safe.”

Their rooms had a cheerful fire already blazing in the hearth.  The inn’s servers had already set a small table up for their meal.  Shortly after they had hung their cloaks by the fire to dry, a young boy entered with a pot holding venison stew and a tray with roasted root vegetables and bread.  A second boy followed with cheese and some dried apples on a tray and a pitcher of cider.

Loghain chuckled.  “I was worried for a moment that they forgot your cheese.”

Alistair blushed, something he did less frequently as he matured.  “You know, everyone knows they can steal cheese from the cellars with no risk of punishment.  I always get punished for missing cheese.  I’ve decided I might as well take as much as I can eat, since it will always be my fault.”  He smirked.  “Fortunately, Cook likes me so the punishments aren’t too awful.”

“I should tell you stealing is wrong, which, of course, it is.  But I was poaching game at your age, so I guess I can’t condemn you for nabbing cheese.”

“Poaching?”

Loghain hesitated, fearing he had revealed too much.  “Yes, poaching from Orlesian lords.”

“Oh, well, that’s alright then.”

Loghain laughed.  “Yes, Alistair it is.”

“But, didn’t you live on your family’s farm?  Wasn’t it your land?”

“By the time I was your age we had lost the farm.  Unpaid taxes.  The Orlesians raised the taxes each year until you couldn’t pay.  Then they settled an Orlesian or a Fereldan traitor on it.  We became part of a refugee band.  The band became outlaws because we poached and stole what we needed to survive from those same Orlesian lords.”

“That must have been a hard life.”

“It was.  Not all of us survived.  My father became the leader of the band.”

“So you learned to lead from him?”

“I…yes.  Yes, I learned that and much more from him.”

Alistair ate quietly for a while.  “I’m glad I get to learn from you, Teyrn Loghain.”

Loghain looked startled.  “I’m not a good substitute for a father, Alistair.”

“I wouldn’t know about fathers, Your Grace.  I only know I’d rather learn from you, as my friend, than have no one.”

“In truth, Alistair, I’d be proud to call you my boy and I am proud to call you my friend.  Now, are you finished with that cheese?  I think we have a chess game waiting.”

Alistair grinned and snatched the last chunk of cheese from the tray, as Loghain stood to fetch the chess set.

* * *

[18] Vihuela – a stringed instrument; a precursor to the guitar and sounding very much like one.  Flat back, 6 double strings, similar tuning and hour glass body.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, follow, subscribe and/or bookmark. As a new author, I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.
> 
> Huge thanks to my beta Kira Tamarion. I grin foolishly when her return email says she likes my chapter. I’m thankful for her insightful comments and suggestions. Any errors are mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and Reviewed. I appreciate knowing what folks think about Lys, Ali, Loghain and their story. 
> 
> There are appendices with background assumptions on timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. in AO3 If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure (remove spaces and copy): archive of our /works/692656/chapters/1273563


	25. Masks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:23 Dragon through 9:24 Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

**9** **:23 Dragon   28 Solace ===  Dragon’s Peak Monastery  === 7 months later**

Alistair’s thirteenth Name Day passed unnoticed, except for Teyrn Loghain and Lady Anora, who visited that day.  The Teyrn offered no congratulations, only a fine dinner at the Dragon’s Rest.  Alistair had been at Dragon’s Peak almost three years.  _In a year, I’ll become a templar initiate, unless….well, unless King Maric acknowledges me._  Ten had not been his lucky number, maybe fourteen would be.

During their visit, Loghain gave him Lys’ Bloomingtide letter.  Alistair would read the letter more than once.  

**_9:23 Dragon 13 Bloomingtide_ **

_Dear Alistair,_

_It has been a long time between letters, but not because I didn’t think about you.  I think about you every day.  I often think, ‘I want to tell Ali about that.’ I always write those things in my journal and pretend I’m telling you.  It’s not the same, but it helps._

_I’ve been away from Highever since Satinalia, so I could not get a  letter to Loghain.  And…well…I suppose I’m not sure you want letters from me.  Your letters to me are so brief, but I’ll be an optimist and believe you’ll read this.  We went to Nevarra as usual in Firstfall and Haring.  Then, when we returned, I spent time with Sarien, my Dalish friend.  Then back to Nevarra.  I hardly know Highever anymore, much less Denerim._

_After our normal visit to Nevarra, I spent Wintermarch and part of Guardian with the Rasiae clan.  I moved in with Sarien and her parents and lived in their aravel with them.  The aravel is their home.  It’s a wooden structure on wheels and the Dalish adorn it with bright cloths that resemble sails.  I didn’t ride in it.  The Rasiae settled into their Highever camp in Harvestmere.  I did help them pack up to leave for the South before I went home._

_I had a wonderful time.  Ariel and Finian Fenhariel treated me like their second daughter.  I had daily duties and archery training.  The best part, tho’, was learning crafts and herbs.  I worked with the clan herbalist and their fiber and textile artisans.  Every Dalish child develops specialities and those are mine.  Over the seven weeks I spent with them, I learned so much about plants, dying fibers, weaving on their looms and making potions and poultices.  They use very simple, narrow looms.  The cloth they weave is narrow, so they sew the strips together to make wider pieces of cloth for clothing.  Each cloth strip coordinates with the rest.  It’s planned that way, but the weaving must be very precise to achieve a good result.  The finished cloth is quite beautiful._

_I almost wish I could just stay with them.  Almost… but I would miss Mum and Fergus... and Father.  I am a Cousland.  I have responsibilities and I will fulfill them, even if I disappoint everyone anyway.  Duty is a four-letter word.  Sorry, that’s a joke, sort of, with Pippa.  In some languages, you see, bad words often have four letters, hence a word with four letters is a bad word…does that make sense?_

_After I returned to Castle Cousland, Mum and I went back to Nevarra in Guardian and Drakonis.  Mum wanted to purchase fabric and have clothing made for Fergus’ wedding.  Yes, I said wedding.  My big brother met a young woman in Antiva a few years ago.  He’s courted her ever since and last year her family agreed to a betrothal.  He’s fortunate.  He found a woman he loves, who loves him and everyone agrees they should marry.  Their wedding will be on Summerday in Highever.  I am happy for them both, of course, but I think I will find the day bittersweet.  Maybe you understand why._

_My laurel band fits my left hand now, by the way.  I’ve grown quite tall.  Perhaps you will think I am too tall and awkward.  Some people say that.  I still train every day, however, so I’m very strong.  And my hair is still well past my waist and usually in a long braid.  And my eyes are still green.  And I still miss you._

_Fergus’ wife’s name is Oriana Falanni.  Her eyes are blue and her hair is short and red, but a soft red, not brilliant or shocking.  She’s average height and feminine and sweet, with an acerbic wit that keeps Fergus in line.  She knows poisons, too, although she doesn’t tell everyone that.  She promised to teach me.  She will be my good-sister.  I prefer that term to sister-in-law, and she fits it.  She is good.  I like her._

_The Falanni are an important merchant family in Antiva, very wealthy and influential.  It’s a good match, although Arl Howe is very put out about it.  He still had hopes of marrying Delilah to Fergus.  Poor Delilah.  I understand she is very unhappy.  She’s fifteen now and not betrothed.  There was talk of her and Vaughn Kendall – ugh!  But Vaughn’s betrothed to Habren Bryland now._

_Enough gossip.  I’m very happy for Fergus.  Oriana is lovely – both in appearance and personality.  We met her in Cumberland, then she and her mother returned with us to Highever to prepare for the nuptials.  It will be lovely to have a good-sister.  And before you ask, yes, of course, Pippa and I are still friends.  She loves Oriana too._

_I’ve taken to wearing a mask when I’m in Cumberland.  The Nevarrans are funny.  They hate Orlais, as we do, but have very similar fashions.  Not quite as fussy, but almost.  And, just like Orlesians, they wear masks.  Mine is quite simple, really, just a piece of fabric that hangs from a  across my forehead.  Appropriate to my age, Mum says.  (Rolling my eyes.)  It has large eyeholes; I hate not being able to see.  The mask hangs down in front of my ears on the side (don’t want to hide my earrings do I?), then curves above my jaw line and  up over my cheeks to hang below my eyes and above the tip of my nose, which leaves me free to breathe.  I hate stiff masks or masks that cover the whole face.  I have a variety in many different colors and fabrics.  Most have laurel branches to indicate my family, altho’ a few use the Haris crest, which is a sleeping dragon.  Sometimes I combine the two, the laurel surrounding the sleeping dragon.  A few have nothing, making me anonymous._

_I’m thinking of getting a chainmail mask to wear under a helmet.  I think it would provide better vision than a visor or nose guard and almost as much protection.  We’ll see if that design is even possible.  With a mask and helmet, I could enter tournaments as a mysterious squire and best everyone.  Ha Ha!  Unless you competed, then I’d lose, I’m sure._

_I stayed in Nevarra after everyone else left in mid-Drakonis.  I went to the Haris estate with Cousin Samuel.  He would like me to be his apprentice and one day succeed him.  Father hasn’t agreed.  So I visit and apprentice with him when I can.  (Well, since Father hasn’t agreed, I don’t really apprentice, but I call it that in my head.)  At the Estate, I can also train with Hrothgar’s Wrath.  My blade work and archery always improve when I do.  I asked the smith if he could make the battle mask and helmet I designed.  He thought it possible.  I hope to have it in Justinian when I return._

_I arrived home a week before Summerday and the wedding.  Everyone in Ferelden and Antiva attended, I think.  Well, almost everyone.  I’m happy for Fergus and Oriana, but I just wanted to run away during the Summerday festivities.  I didn’t this year.  I got in enough trouble last year for doing that!  No one had time to ride or walk the beaches or sail as we usually do.  Starfall was quite annoyed with me for neglecting her for a week.  Hitch took it in stride and I hope explained it to Starfall.  (…and yes, I DO think animals communicate, maybe not in words, but they do.  I’m stamping my foot, with hands on hips, as I say that.)  Pippa missed Nathaniel, so she was as lonely as I was.  We tried to keep each other company._

_Oh right, I didn’t tell you about Nate.  Arl Howe said he had not advanced sufficiently at South Reach, ( I scoff softly as I write that) so he sent him to the Free Marches to begin his squiring again.  He’ll be there for seven years.  Oddly, this happened just after Arl Kendall announced Vaughn’s betrothal to Habren, which quashed Howe’s hopes for Delilah and Vaughn – lucky Delilah!  I think he hoped to snag Habren for Nathaniel…lucky Nathaniel!  Honestly, I think Vaughn and Habren may deserve each other.  (Am I too evil?)._

_It’s rumored that Nathaniel’s been disinherited as well in favor of Thomas.  Although that may be good news for Pippa.  Nate can come home a knight and lead Highever’s forces, so they could marry and stay right here.  And maybe I could….  Or Pippa and I will just never marry and go to Nevarra and work for House Haris.  Or maybe Nate will join us there.  Maybe someone else as well?  And we can all wear masks._

_Well enough chatter and gossip.  I’ll be surprised if you got this far.  If you did, please write a nice chatty letter to me.  Tell me about your training and the library and the scriptorium.  What are you drawing?  What are you reading?  Is there any gossip in a monastery.  If so, please tell me!  I realize I am nosy, but I miss you.  Every day, but especially during Summerday.  I’ll be watching for falling stars, Ali.  Always._

_Your, Lys_

He leaned back against the bolster on his bunk.  He chuckled at her comments, but felt sad at the same time.  The candle burned down and guttered out in the sconce above him.  With the curtain closed, his cubicle darkened.  He took a ragged breathe.  _I don’t want to know she misses me._   _I don’t want to imagine walking with her in the gardens.  I don’t want to see green eyes._   He clenched his fists, then pounded them on the mattress.  Not for the first time he wondered why, with all the other miracles she’d performed, Anora couldn’t get permission for the Couslands to visit.  That was not a question he would ask the Teyrn.

He enjoyed Teyrn Loghain’s visits.  He even enjoyed the conversations with Lady Anora.  He did not have to pretend too much when he was with the Mac Tirs, he just had to make sure he said nothing out of line.  Like asking why he could not see Lys.

He wrote a longer than usual response in the morning, telling her of his friendship with Cullen, who was now an initiate; about the other pages and their pranks; and of his progress at arms training, his work in the scriptorium and his studies.  He found it easier to write if he pretended he was talking to her.  _Perhaps that what she does.  Why her letters are so long._   Loghain smiled at the size of the folded parchment Alistair gave him. 

“She’ll be happy with such a long letter, Alistair.” 

“I hope so.  Lys…she should be happy.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

His third year at Dragon’s Peak continued to go smoothly, with little change in the routine.  Loghain, often accompanied by Lady Anora, visited every month or two.  Teyrn Loghain continued to bring letters from Lys Cousland.  Alistair continued to reply, although each letter grew shorter and less personal again in spite of his attempts to keep them long and, as Lys said, chatty.  That Lys wrote continued to surprise him.  _She couldn’t still care about a boy she hadn’t seen in over three years,_ he thought. 

When Anora and Loghain visited, she spoke about how pretty Lys had become and how proud the Teyrn and Teyrna were of her many accomplishments.  Apparently, Lys continued to excel at archery and with her blades, but she had also developed social skills.  She regularly attended some teas and salons when in Denerim, even an afternoon dance or two.

She also spent more time in Nevarra  Anora reported, but no one was quite sure what she did there.  Anora added that the nobility speculated about who might become her betrothed and whether it would be a Fereldan or a Nevarran.  He recalled Lys saying that girls were always betrothed by age fourteen, but that her parents would let her marry whom she chose.  _Could she still consider herself betrothed to me?_   _She had said the laurel ring fit her left hand_.  _Of course not, idiot. That was a childish fancy.  She’ll want to marry a noble, perhaps in Nevarra._   _Or maybe she’ll return to her other world, if that story was even real._   He had seen the satellite again, from the monastery roof.  Lys was never one to lie,  but that story about Areth….well, once away from her, it did seem farfetched, at best.

Loghain found Anora’s penchant for relating news about the Couslands odd.  Of course, Alistair always sent his greetings to Teyrna Eleanor, so he supposed Anora thought the news would interest him.  Alistair always listened attentively, but rarely showed any real emotion.  He had become able to mask some of his thoughts and feelings when he wanted to.  At other times, his blushes and awkwardness came through.  ‘How good an actor has he become?’  Loghain wondered.

Anora mentioned Fergus’ marriage.  She noted that Oriana’s father was a wealthy merchant, but that there were family ties to Antivan nobility. 

“And perhaps the Antivan Crows,” Anora added.  “Most Antivan nobility are, so probably the merchants are too.”  Anora scoffed at the foreign alliance, but conceded that the young woman, Oriana, was pleasant enough.  She had been quite delightful during the various Satinalia events they both attended. 

Anora speculated that Howe would want to marry Thomas to Lys Cousland, if his father disinherited Nathaniel in favor of Thomas.  Alistair, of course, had read this in Lys’ letter, but still found the news about Nathaniel puzzling and the news about Thomas and Lys disturbing.

‘Stop!’ Alistair told himself.  _I don’t know these people any longer.  It has nothing to do with me._   _Lys will marry whom she chooses.  Thomas is no threat to her._

Loghain had watched Alistair’s expressions and comments as Anora spoke that evening.  The boy listened impassively to most of the news.  It was only when Anora mentioned Lys and Thomas that a brief look of distress crossed his face.  Anora, he observed, looked pleased.  _Now what was that about?_ He shrugged it off. 

He did wonder that Anora had been unable to convince the Revered Mother to allow Alistair other visitors.  He understood that permission to travel away from Dragon’s Peak would have to come from Maric and the Grand Cleric, but visitors to the Monastery could be observed and controlled.  Apparently, Anora’s influence and persuasion only went so far.  At least Alistair could stay with them in the village.

He had come to realize he would never understand all of Anora’s machinations, but it didn’t matter.  She tried to help Alistair where she could.  She cared about Cailan and Ferelden.  She would be a fine queen.  He would stick to being a general.

 **9** **:24 Dragon   18 Solace  ===  Dragon’s Peak**

As his fourteenth Name Day approached, Alistair grew more quiet and withdrawn.  His friends noticed he spent more time in the library or in the practice yards destroying the sparring dummies or winning sparring matches with his furious attacks.  No word had come from King Maric.  Teyrn Loghain’s last visit had been in Cloudreach, before Summerday.  Now the time when he would become a templar initiate approached and, it seemed, he would not be rescued.

Most of his friends visited family during fest days.  Some of the older templar initiates even competed in tourneys as squires in the Vesper Elimination duels.  Alistair stayed in the monastery with the other orphan initiates.  He usually took advantage of the extra time to work with the Trainer or the brothers in the scriptorium, although, with the other pages gone, the templars often tagged him for additional duties. 

This Funalis would be no different.  He had to get through it, then in mid-August, he would take his vows as a templar initiate.  Regardless of what Loghain had promised, he believed that once he took those vows his path would be set.  He had seen a few older templars and heard rumors of what made them so…odd.  Lyrium – the initiates whispered about its lure, the powers it gave and the cost it elicited.  He wanted no part of it.  Not that he believed he would have a choice.

Loghain surprised him when he arrived on his Name Day.  “Anora convinced the Revered Mother to grant permission for you to ride out with me,” Loghain informed him.  “I assume you still ride?”

“Yes, Your Grace.  Only on the monastery grounds, but I can still ride.”  Alistair looked puzzled.  “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere special, I’m afraid.  Up to the Peak, then dinner at the inn.  I just thought it might be a good change.”

Alistair smiled, “It would, Your Grace.  Thank you.”

Loghain and Alistair walked into Dragon’s Peak village, which spread out from the Monastery’s North Gate.  Half-timbered buildings housing shops lined the main street.  Most catered to the Chantry brothers and sisters; the templars; the students allowed free time outside the monastery grounds; and the families who visited them.  The shop nearest the gate, on their left, sold Chantry vestments and religious items.  The smell of bread baking from the nearby bakery filled the air where it mixed with the odor of hops from the brew house beyond the inn’s yard. 

The Dragon’s Rest Inn stood just beyond the Monastery wall on their right.  The inn and its rank of outbuildings were surrounded by its own wall.  The Dragon’s Rest itself sprawled along the south wall, which abutted the monastery boundary.  Several additions expanded the original building facing the road into one that could accommodate scores of guests.  The kitchens stood, at right angle to the inn buildings, against the wall opposite the roadside entry gate.  The stables made up part of the rank of buildings on the north wall.  The hostler had Loghain’s horse, and another hired from the stables for Alistair, ready in the yard.

“Maker, I’d forgotten there was a world outside the Monastery walls,” Alistair said softly, almost to himself as they rode up the steepening trail to the summit of Dragon’s Peak.  “Thank you, Teyrn Loghain.  It’s nice to be reminded.”

“Of what you miss?”  Loghain frowned and rubbed his neck.  “I hope this wasn’t a mistake.”

“No.  It’s…nice.”  As they approached the peak, the trail steepened and they dismounted and walked the horses.  They tethered them to a scrubby tree just below the peak.  The final half mile was open rock scoured by winds off the Amaranthine Ocean to the east.  The few stunted trees and low bushes curved towards the west, shaped by the prevailing winds off the ocean.

“Maker’s Breath,” Alistair smiled.  “It’s amazing.  Is that Denerim down there?  It’s so tiny.  That spire, is that Fort Drakon?  I never really saw Denerim the one time I visited.”

“It is.  The Royal Palace is just east of the Fort.”  Loghain pointed out some other Denerim landmarks, then turned and pointed south, “and that’s the Brecilian Forest.  You can almost see to Gwaren.  At least it seems that way on such a clear day.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Miss it?”

“Gwaren.  I mean, I know you visit occasionally, but do you miss living there?”

Loghain smiled sadly.  “Yes and no.  I had happy times there when Anora was small.  Her mother and I were happy for a while.  Then the King asked me to come to Denerim.”  He sighed.  “Anora has never quite forgiven me for leaving, but your father needed me.”

“You’ve been a good friend to him, not just to Ferelden.”

“He’s like a brother to me Alistair.  You’re both incurring a great loss, being apart.  He’s a remarkable man.  He has his faults, mind you, but somehow, when he’s at his best, you forget them.”  He shook his head as if to clear it.  “If he wanted to conquer the Fade, I would lead the charge,” he said so quietly, Alistair had to strain to hear him above the wind.

Alistair said nothing, unsure how he could respond.  He did not know the man.  His idea of a father stood beside him.  They remained quiet for a while taking in the view.

“Thank you, Teyrn Loghain.  I’ve never been atop a mountain like this.  It’s fantastic.”

“I wanted to do something special today.  I know you dislike any fuss.”

“It’s a good day, Your Grace.  Thank you.  “

“I do have a letter for you.”  He held out a folded parchment.  “If you’d like to read it now, go ahead.  I’ll unpack our meal.”

**_9:24 Dragon   29 Bloomingtide_ **

_Dear Alistair,_

_I’m hoping this letter reaches Teyrn Loghain before he visits you again.  I didn’t write sooner because I have exciting news and wanted to wait to include it.  We delayed our normal trip to Nevarra because of it._

_So the news - I can now happily announce that I am an aunt._   _Can you imagine, me an aunt?  Worse, can you imagine Fergus a father!  My nephew’s – MY Nephew!  -  name is Oren and he is adorable.  Mum is ecstatic to be a grandmother.  Father is pretty happy too._

_Oriana and Oren are well.  Fergus is a very proud Papa, as you might imagine.  So it has all been very exciting.  I can’t wait to teach him to ride and shoot and walk the beaches and the cliffs and use blades…that will be fun.  I just wish…Maker’s toenails, I miss you._

_So took a deep breathe.  Feeling better now.  I’m thinking of Oren and when not admiring, feeding, changing, cuddling or otherwise glorying in my new auntly status, my life is the same.  Training, studying, working with the guilds and House Haris.  Nothing new.  Well, perhaps one thing.  I thought I had stealth skills, but I’ve learned I have none._

_Several Antivans accompanied Oriana when she arrived last year.  Her lady’s maid, of course, and also a body guard.  Not that her family didn’t trust the Highever guard, but having a personal bodyguard is apparently normal in Antiva.  Her family wanted to make sure Highever was as safe as we claimed before abandoning her to our inferior skills, I suppose.  Anyway, the body guard, an elf, who insisted I simply call him Zed (as in X, Y, Zed) proved to be an expert with blades, lock picking and stealth.  He taught me so much.  I sparred with him several times a week and worked on my lock picking (nothing is safe from me now I assure you), but the stealth lessons were the best._

_Zed left soon after Oren was born.  He said he’d only been hired for a year, but stayed on through the birth.  Although, during the year, he would disappear every so often.  Anyway, he taught me so much.  I’ll miss him.  I’ll have much to show the Wrath’s trainers when I get there._

_So, when we see each other again, guard your purse.  I can steal your belongings and be gone before you realize it.  Hmm.  Perhaps I should practice in the Denerim market next time I’m in the city.  No.  No.  No.  Not on the merchants.  I can think of some nobles who deserve a lesson or two, however.  (Evil girl considers how to pick her nasty cousin Habren’s pocket when she’s distracted by jewels.  Or maybe after she buys the jewels.  He he.)_

_I won’t wish you a happy Name Day.  I hope Teyrn Loghain visits you before then._

_I don’t leave for Nevarra until after the autumn Landsmeet.  This year, I’ll stay there for Satinalia.  It will be a busy autumn and winter, I expect, but I won’t bore you with investments, contracts and negotiations.  I’ll divide my time between Cumberland and the Estate, although I expect there will be some trips to Tantervale, Starkhaven and maybe further afield.  It’s fun.  I enjoy the challenges and meeting new people.  And of course dressing up and wearing masks._

_I should also report that the silverite helmet and chainmail mask are wonderful.  I’ve used them for months now.  The chain is fine, but heavy enough to mold to my face, so my vision is excellent when I spar.  No visor or nose guard sticking out and blinding me.  The eye holes are pretty large and the helmet over the mask feels quite comfortable._

_I have a large collection of dressy masks now too, to go with all my fine clothing.  There will be many fetes, salons and teas over the holiday, so I will get to practice my social skills and my dancing.  Mum is a bit more lenient in Nevarra and lets me attend some grown up functions, at least for part of the evening.  I do love to dance.  It’s like doing forms to music.  Do they teach you dancing at the Peak?_

_Mum and Father will join me in Cumberland for the holiday, while Fergus, Oriana and Oren stay in Highever.  I expect the Broughtens will be in Cumberland, with us, as well.  It should be fun to experience Satinalia in Nevarra.  I’ll tell you all about it when I write in Firstfall._

_I wish…no I won’t say that.  Only that I miss you.  I’m jealous that Loghain gets to see you.  I should close now before I get maudlin again._

_I still watch for falling stars, Ali.  Always.  Always.  Your, Lys_

He folded the letter and put it in his belt pouch, schooling his expression to one of contentment.  “She sounds busy.  Fergus must be pleased being a father.”

“He is.  They had a fine baby boy.”

“Give them my best, if you think of it.  I always liked Fergus.  He was almost like a bro…well I liked him.”

“I will tell him, Alistair.”

They stretched out on the rocky ledge, eating the food the inn had packed for them.  Loghain had a wine skin, which he shared with Alistair, allowing him a few swallows to celebrate the day.  The other skin offered sweet cider.  Of course, there was cheese, along with bread, apples and berry tarts. 

As they ate, Loghain pointed out other landmarks visible from their perch.  Then he challenged Alistair to envision how an army might approach Denerim to lay siege.  Alistair laughed.  It was like having a huge sand table or map spread before him.  He could imagine troops moving along the north and west roads, along the Drakon river and through the forests. 

He asked Loghain about the coasts north and south of Denerim. 

“The southern coast rises to towering cliffs,” Loghain replied.  “Cliffs also rise on the north edge of Denerim and continue along the coast for some miles.  In fact, he added, Highever House, the Couslands Denerim estate, stands at the northern edge of Denerim on such a cliff.  A few miles further north, however, the coast flattens and forests cover the land right down to the narrow sandy beaches.” 

“I can land troops from the sea on those beaches just north of the city.  They can travel through the forest undetected and attack from the north.” 

After several hours of war games, the two finally decided to return to the inn.  

“You did well, Alistair.  You had some novel ideas for approaching the city.  You used the river and terrain features well.”

“Thank you, Teyrn Loghain.  I enjoyed it.  I don’t think I’d like to fight in real life, knowing all the destruction it would cause, but it’s good to know I could.  I’d always defend Ferelden.”

“I know you would, Alistair.”

“Teyrn Loghain, I’d rather defend Ferelden, than hunt mages.”  He looked at Loghain his expression pleading for a reprieve from the vows he faced. 

“I can’t change what’s coming, Alistair.  Just remember, these are not final vows.  You will not have to take final vows unless you choose to.”

“Right.  I’ll keep that in mind.  I hope the Revered Mother and Knight-Commander understand that.”

“The Grand Cleric and your father do, Alistair, that’s all that matters.”  Loghain dismounted outside the inn.  The hostler took the two horses.  Loghain and Alistair went to Loghain’s rooms.  “Will your life change that much?”

“No.  Not really.  I’ll likely get less time in the library and scriptorium and more time at arms training, but that’s not so awful.  The first and second year initiates never go on mage hunts or visit the Tower of Magi.  That won’t happen until the third year, at the earliest, depending on your skills.  The additional arms training includes training in the special templar skills.  That will be all new to me.  Cuthbert and I will have an advantage over the new initiates.”  He grinned. 

“New initiates?”

“The ones that come from elsewhere as initiates.  They haven’t been pages here as Bert and I have, so they will be at a disadvantage.  We’re already being trained in templar fighting skills.  We’ll be the senior boys in our class and probably get some leadership positions.”

“Good to hear,” Loghain replied, “and knowing how to subdue a mage can’t be a bad thing either.  Just another weapon to be put to proper use.”

Alistair’s eyes narrowed, “I never thought of it quite that way, but you’re correct, of course.”  He looked around the room as if he expected to see someone else.

“I thought about it.”

Alistair’s head whipped around.  “Abo…you thought about what?”

“About bringing Eleanor and Lys or having her meet us on the Peak.  I decided it would be too great a risk to our visits and too difficult for you both.  To see each other for a few hours, not knowing when you would see each other again.  I might have done it anyway, but they didn’t come to Denerim.  They tend to stay in Highever for Funalis; or, at least, Lys, Oriana and Eleanor do.  Lys avoids Redcliffe, but the Teyrn and Fergus sometimes go.”

Alistair sighed.  “It’s best you didn’t get her hopes up.”

“And yours?”

Alistair looked down, scuffing his shoe against the floor.  “I try not to hope.  Just take what comes and adjust.”  He raised his eyes, his head still down.  Shrugging he added, “It’s what I do, remember, adjust.”

“I think Lys may be learning that lesson.  She’s become very serious about her training, her work with House Haris and her studies.  The passionate, impulsive little girl you knew has grown up.  She still cares about you though.  I am required to provide a full report to your father and Lys after every visit.”

“That’s too bad.  We all grow up, but I would have expected she would keep some of that passion and…temerity.”

Loghain laughed.  “Well she has tempered the passion, but she’s certainly self-assured, so I would say she’s converted it and controls it.  She’s still capable of being impetuous on occasion.  It’s just more rare now, but it hasn’t disappeared altogether.  I must admit, I miss the hugs.”  He opened the door to the serving woman bringing their dinner.  “Let’s eat, Alistair.  That ride made me hungry again and this venison stew looks delicious.”

“You provide a report after every visit?”

“In person, to Maric.  If Lys is not in Denerim, then by letter.  I’ve told her you find it hard to write.  She understands.  She said you bury everything that hurts you and asked me not to make you dig it out.”

“Tell her I’ll try to write more.  I’ll tell her too, but put it in your report.”  He smirked, “You’ll make it official.”

Loghain shook his head.  “I’ll do it Alistair, but you better follow through.  The wrath of Lady Cousland can be an imposing thing.  I know, I’ve been its target quite often these past few years.”

“Good to know, Your Grace.”  Seeing Loghain’s puzzled look, he added, “That Lys defends me.  I’d do the same for her.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Loghain managed to get Alistair excused from duty for several days.  Permission for day long rides to anywhere but Denerim had been given by the Revered Mother.  It was understood that no one else was to join them.  They took another long ride, circling the mountain to the south and riding down to the seacoast southeast of the Peak.  They remained on the cliff tops as the sheer drops precluded any simple hikes to the rocks below.  There were no beaches along this stretch of the Amaranthine Ocean.  They continued their strategy games and sparred.  Then Loghain surprised him and brought out a bow. 

“Let’s see if you can still shoot.”

Alistair groaned.  “It’s been four years since I touched a bow!”

“Not a skill you forget, boy.”  Loghain growled handing him a full quiver and strung bow.  “Ready your bow,” he commanded. 

Alistair slipped the quiver on his back and readied the bow as ordered. 

Loghain continued with the age-old commands.  “Nock… mark…draw…loose.” 

Alistair obeyed as the unused skills returned and he surprised himself by actually hitting the tree.  Before he could think any further the command chant began again.  After five arrows, Loghain had him step back ten paces and try again. 

“Once an archer, always an archer.”  Loghain walked over to the tree and pulled nine arrows from it.  “Go find the one that missed.”

Alistair walked past the tree into the brush to its right and soon came up with the errant arrow.

“Well, I could do better, but I’m glad I only missed with one shot.”

“You did well.  A new, longer, heavier bow and longer arrows, I didn’t expect it to go this well.  It must be your eyesight.”

Alistair laughed.  “Right.  Alistair, the elf.”

Loghain smiled, “I’d forgotten that.  Let’s try again.”  After several series of shots, Loghain called a halt and told Alistair to unstring the bow.  “It’s time we head back.  It’s a long ride.  We’ll just make it in time for dinner.”

They rode silently most of the way.  A comfortable silence of two friends enjoying the day and each other’s company.  Loghain left the following day.  Then, August came  and Alistair took his vows as an initiate, but, as he predicted, not much changed.  The following months passed quickly.  Weather permitting they continued to ride when Loghain, and sometimes  Anora, would visit every month or two. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. As a new author, I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.  
> Huge thanks to my beta Kira Tamarion. She’s tolerant of my rather lengthy chapters. I look forward each week to her insightful comments and suggestions. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine.  
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and Reviewed – most recently Eastern Violet, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Pollyanna24, clafount and KatDancer2. Thanks for the thoughtful feedback. I know I’m evil…he’s still in the Chantry and they haven’t seen each other in so long. Know this….it could be worse, but I hope you keep reading anyway.  
> There are appendices with background assumptions on timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. in AO3. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure (remove spaces and copy): archive of our /works/692656/chapters/1273563


	26. The Lady's Maid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:24 Dragon, August in Denerim; 9:24 Dragon, Haring, Haris Estate Nevarra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 26:  THE LADY’S MAID**

* * *

**9:24 Dragon    August  ===  Denerim**

After spending Funalis in Highever, the Couslands arrived in Denerim for the autumn Landsmeet. At fourteen, Lys would not attend. Her father and Fergus would represent House Cousland and the Highever Teyrnir. Lys looked forward to exploring the markets, meeting with friends, and enjoying some of the social and cultural activities that occurred when Fereldan nobility crowded into Denerim to exercise their Landsmeet voices. This year, the Broughtens chose to come to Denerim providing Lys with Philippa's company.

Teyrna Eleanor, Lady Oriana and Lys sat in the solar of Highever House. The room, on the second floor, had six windows set side by side into an alcove in the thick wall. The leaded windows began part way up the wall and extended to the ceiling. The view showed the lawn, a wall, and the Amaranthine Ocean beyond. Facing northeast, the solar received sunlight most of the day. In warmer months, the windows opened to allow cooling breezes into the room. Below the windows, the alcove contained a cushioned window seat. A long, low table was placed before it. Several chairs stood around the other sides of the table facing into the light from the window. On the wall opposite the window, a lute and a vihuela hung on the wall above a wooden bench. A loom stood in front of the bench. Large unlit braziers filled two corners of the wall opposite the door. A large tapestry depicting the Coast Range as seen from Castle Cousland hung on the wall between them.

Lys sat at her spinning wheel, spinning a fine, wool and silk, yarn. Sitting in one of the chairs by the low table, Teyrna Eleanor embroidered the edge of a blanket for her three-month-old grandson, Oren. Oriana sat on the window bench playing softly on her lute, practicing a new song Lys had taught her.

"Lys," her mother said, "it's time for you to have a lady's maid. Now that you are almost fifteen, you'll attend more salons, teas, and informal parties. Invitations to social engagements will increase even more during the year before we present you at Court. You should find a maid you like before the engagements build up. Oriana offered to help you interview candidates."

Oriana winked at Lys when she glanced toward her good sister.

"I…understand, Mum. It just seems like I'll give up so much of the freedom I gained at twelve when Freya moved on."

"Lys, a lady's maid is not a nurse. She won't supervise you."

"I'm not opposed, Mum. Help with my hair would be especially useful," she admitted. "At least Oriana wouldn't get stuck with helping me, now that I've gotten used to her expertise." She grinned a thank you at the Antivan woman who had quickly become her friend after marrying Fergus. She thought for a moment. "You know Pippa has a maid already, although she's more like a companion. Myfanwy grew up in the Highever Alienage. She can use a bow and we've taught her to ride."

Teyrna Eleanor smiled, guessing at the direction this conversation was heading. Her daughter continued, "I wonder if I can find a lady's maid who can also fight? Would you object if I found someone like that?"

"No, as long as she is qualified as a lady's maid and the other skills are additional. I do think those requirements might be difficult to meet. I don't want you to use them to avoid getting a maid entirely. Suppose we agree that you have six months. If you haven't found a maid to your liking by your fifteenth birthday, we'll revise the requirements." Teyrna Eleanor narrowed her eyes, thinking, then added, "And, Lys, I do reserve the right of refusal."

"I agree, Mum. I'll also start looking straight away, although I don't imagine I will find anyone in Denerim. Elves here can't train or carry weapons. Myfanwy might have friends in Highever or know of relatives elsewhere. I'll ask her. Or perhaps Cousin Samuel, when I go to Nevarra. Thanks, Mum, for understanding."

Eleanor sighed. Most of her friends simply hired a maid for their daughter or included the girl in the interview process as an observer. Lys, of course, had been involved in trade negotiations since she was ten. Expecting her to accept a personal servant, without her input, would be foolish. Letting Lys take on the responsibility herself made Eleanor nervous, but it was the right thing to do. Of course, she had been living in Rebel camps and fighting Orlesians when she was not much older than her daughter.  _Lys will do fine._

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Philippa and her maid, Myfanwy Feris, arrived at Highever House at mid-day. Teyrna Eleanor would host a tea that afternoon and both Lys and Pippa would attend. Pippa offered to come to Highever House to dress so that Myfanwy could help Lys, too. Lady Anora Mac Tir would attend and both girls wanted to look their best and not embarrass their mothers.

"Maker, I wish I wasn't nervous," Lys complained, "I still worry I'll do something stupid at one of these teas."

"Calm down, Lyssie, you'll be fine." Pippa, a year older, had developed more self-confidence after attending many of these events over the past two years. "You attend events all the time in Nevarra. This is no different."

"Right. No honeys cakes, and stay away from the wine, even if it's watered. I can eat after it's over."

Pippa giggled. "Well, you don't want to remind any nobles of the Great Honey Cake Disaster."

Myfa chuckled in the background.

Lys groaned. "Every time you mention that you make it sound worse. Incident, debacle, now you add great and disaster. What's next, calamity? I was four!"

"Well, laughing will calm you down."

"Yes, but Pip, I'm not laughing, you and Myfa are."

Myfanwy, still smiling, said, "Come sit, Lady Lys. Let me fix your hair."

Lys sat as Myfa swept her hair away from her face into an intricate set of loose braids, which combined to create a wavy fall of hair down her back. Lys watched her in the mirror as she worked.

"Myfanwy you have a magic touch with braids. It's lovely. I look...well, not like me."

"Lys, you look beautiful, but you're right no one will recognize you without the fat braid that's coming undone or the loose hair covering your face." Pippa teased.

"In for a copper, in for a sovereign. Mum said no make-up, but I have some lip cream. I'll just be incognito without stealth." Lys put a dab on her finger, then offered the vial to Philippa.

"Did you make this?"

"Yes. It's harmless, just gives some color and shine. Don't worry, I didn't use any of the poisons Oriana showed me. It will wear off as you eat. Since I am not eating, it may last through the whole affair."

"Lys, you must eat something. You don't want to faint."

"Faint? Me?"

"You. It's warm today. The room will be hot. You need to drink lemon water or tea and eat lightly."

"Fine. Fine."

"Myf, before we go, I need to find a lady's maid. Do you know of anyone?"

"I do…my cousin here in Denerim." Myfanwy grinned. "You can't say anything, but she can use blades and she's better at hair than I am."

Lys' eyebrows rose. "Blades? And she lives in the Alienage here?" She grinned. "When can I meet her?"

"I'm visiting my family this week. I'll ask her if she's interested."

"Great." Lys hugged Myfanwy. "Hair and blades, oh Maker Myfa, that's perfect."

Pippa rolled her eyes. "Only you, Lys Cousland, would want a maid who could spar with you."

Lys linked her arm through her friend's. "I think I'll enjoy this tea now. Let's go down shall we?"

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

They found Teyrna Eleanor Cousland in the large first floor salon. The large doors opened out onto a paved terrace. Beyond the terrace, the lawn extended to a low wall that formed the rear of the Highever House property. The wall stood along a sheer cliff that dropped to the rocky Amaranthine Ocean shore. With the doors open, breezes brought cool air and a salt tang into the salon. Guests, all women, milled around the tables offering hot and cool teas and trays of savory and sweet tidbits.

Teyrna Eleanor moved easily among her guests. She offered a kind word here, a compliment there, an easily answered question to another. She watched with approval as her daughter and Philippa Broughten entered. The pair looked lovely. Lys' tall, slender, dark-haired figure contrasted with Pippa's shorter, slight, blond one. Lys wore Cousland blue and green with a touch of purple, which brought out her green eyes, while Pippa wore the brighter Highever green coupled with the powder blue of Higheverport and a touch of deep gold, which complemented her deep blue eyes.. The simple elegant lines of their silk dresses emphasized their beauty.

 _Myfanwy is a treasure._ Eleanor admired the girls' lovely, intricately braided hairstyles. _I hope she has a friend._

The girls smiled at the Teyrna, but walked across the room to speak to Arlessa Bryland. Eleanor turned to greet her newest guest.

"Lady Anora, I'm so pleased you could attend."

Anora smiled at her good friend. "Eleanor, I would never turn down an invitation to Highever House, you know that. And it is such a lovely day. Andraste smiled on you, as always. I look forward to spending time on the terrace. You have such a gorgeous view of the Ocean."

Anora wore blue. Anora almost always wore blue, though she varied the trim, the sleeve style and the fabric. Today her blue silk dress had soft yellow edging on the hems and neck. The sleeves, split from her elbow to her wrists, hung almost to the floor showing a deep gold lining. With her blond hair, fair complexion, and blue eyes, the effect was striking.

Teyrna Eleanor led Anora towards the terrace. She motioned to a servant to bring them glasses of tea and a tray of edibles. "There are tables on the terrace. Would you like to join Elissa Bryland? Unfortunately, Habren was unable to join us today."

Anora came close to grinning at Eleanor's subtle comment. "I would love to join Elissa. I hope Habren is not ill."

"I don't know, Anora. Perhaps Elissa can tell us."

"Maker, Eleanor," Anora whispered, "how can she be Elissa's daughter?"

Eleanor, stifling a chuckle, shook her head as they approached Alrlessa Bryland's table. The Arlessa stood. Although a Teyrn's daughter, Anora was betrothed to the Crown Prince. Led by Teyrna Eleanor, Arlessa Bryland, and several other noble ladies, Fereldan nobility offered Anora the respect, if not the title, due the Crown Princess she would officially become upon her marriage to Cailan, in Cloudreach of 9:26. Although considered a bit reserved, Anora was well liked.

"Lady Anora, it's so good to see you. Will you join me? The ocean breeze is lovely. It's so much cooler here than in the Palace District. No wonder Bryce and Eleanor refuse to move." Arlessa Bryland sat down again.

The servant placed a pot of hot water, a container of loose tea in linen sacs, cups, spoons, and a tray of food on the table. Anora noticed the two young women who had been speaking to Arlessa Bryland standing to one side after offering her a curtsy. Anora turned to them.

"Am I taking your seat?"

The tall, dark haired girl smiled, "No, Lady Anora, we were just greeting Cousin Elissa. We should move on. Welcome to Highever House. I hope you enjoy this lovely day."

Anora frowned, thinking she should recognize this girl who called Elissa Bryland, cousin.

Lys noticed Anora's frown. "I'm sorry, Lady Anora. I'm afraid we haven't seen each other in some time. I should have introduced myself. Melysande Cousland. This is my good friend Philippa Broughten."

"Lady Melysande! It has been some time. You've…" Anora laughed. "I'll sound like an old grandmother. I was about to say, you've grown."

Lys smiled. "Well, in truth I have grown quite tall in the past two years. I'm hoping I'll stop soon."

"Thank you for introducing yourself. And it's good to meet you again, Lady Broughten. I hope your family is well. Is Arlessa Alys here?

"Yes, Lady Anora, she is. I'm sure she will greet you."

"And, Lady Melysande, I will enjoy the tea, I'm sure. Your mother is always a perfect hostess."

Lys and Pippa curtsied to Anora and Elissa before moving away.

"She seemed pleasant."

"Only because she didn't recognize me straightaway. And Cousin Elissa was there."

"Or perhaps because you're older, charming, polite and not an unkempt, rowdy child."

"There is that, " Lys conceded, linking her arm through Pippa's. "Now let's circulate, as Mum calls it. I know almost everyone here. If we stick together, I can introduce you and it will be a conversation starter."

Pippa stared at her friend, her eyes narrowed.

"What?"

"You have been paying attention to your mother's lectures. I'm impressed."

"It's Nevarra actually. All the entertaining with Cousin Samuel. Small talk only, no business."

"Ah, I see. Well then, lead on, we'll circulate."

Eleanor watched the two girls moving from one group to another. Lys' ease surprised her.  _She must have learned this in Nevarra. I'll have to mention it to Bryce. Perhaps it will encourage him to let her spend more time there._

Anora also watched Lys move through the room.  _So at ease._   _She's Eleanor's daughter of course, but I would never have expected the ill-kempt brat to be so gracious. Maybe it's her friend. Or perhaps she's grown and I shouldn't be so harsh. After all father thinks she's wonderful and, Maker knows, he doesn't suffer fools under any circumstances._

Unaware of her watchers, Lys ate sparingly, avoided honey cakes, and limited her drinking to cooled lemon ginger tea, an innovation her mother had introduced to Ferelden, a few years before.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The next morning, Lys rode Starfall to the Broughten Townhouse to meet Philippa and Myfanwy. The Arl of Highever maintained a roomy stone townhouse on the edge of the Palace district not too far from the central Denerim Market. The first floor held rooms for entertaining; the second and third floors were the family quarters, and the fourth floors were the servants' quarters. An attic provided storage. The ground floor held the kitchens, workrooms and storage. A basement provided cool storage and access to the underground passageways that snaked throughout Denerim.

The girls planned to spend the day shopping and enjoying the warm autumn day in the city. They also promised Myfa they would accompany her to the Denerim Alienage so that she could visit family. In Higheverport, Myfanwy could safely visit the Alienage quarter alone. In the more volatile, gated Denerim Alienage, guards, humans or even other elves, might accost a single elf, particularly a young female elf, walking alone. With Pippa and Lys accompanying her, Myfa should be quite safe, particularly as they were all armed.

They did need to ensure no one noticed Myfanwy's weapons as they walked around Denerim. At Lys' insistence, Pippa and Myfanwy had become proficient with daggers and throwing knives, which they carried at all times. As Pippa's servant, Myfanwy could carry arms in Denerim, but it was best not to have to explain it to the guards. All three young women were also fine archers, but did not carry their bows in the city.

Aware of appearances and reluctant to invite hostile comments or advances, Lys and Pippa walked arm in arm, while Myfa stayed a few paces behind carrying the market basket. Lys wore boots and leather leggings under a skirt, which cleverly split in the front and back to allow her to ride. When walking, overlapping panels made it look like a normal skirt. A long leather jerkin, which also split in the front and back for riding, covered a deep purple wool tunic. Pippa dressed more conventionally, wearing a deep gold dress, trimmed in powder blue and bright green, and covered by a light cloak. The girls wound their way through the streets leading from the Palace District and crossed the River Drakon to arrive at the main Market.

"Let's avoid Arl Geurrin's Estate," Lys requested. "I don't want to spoil a lovely day by meeting the Arl or Arlessa. I'll never understand why the Guerrin Estate is in here and not on the coast or in the Palace District."

"Unless they wanted to be close to the Chantry. Maybe the Guerrins of old were particularly pious." Pippa said.

"Well, that should suit the Arlessa. She can scuttle to the Chantry whenever she wants to. Just don't let me meet her." She heard Myfa chuckling quietly behind them.

Lys and Pippa frequently included Myfa in their conversation, but the girls kept a certain distance through their tone and address when in public.

"Myfa , which ribbons would work best with my new dresses?" Pippa asked to change the subject. Lys could go on and on about the Guerrins if not stopped early. "You're better at matching colors than I am."

"That's because I bring fabric swatches, my lady," Myfanwy replied with a smirk. "Here, a swatch from each dress."

"Good idea, I knew there was a reason I keep you close."

Lys wandered off as Pippa and Myfanwy selected ribbons and lace. A vendor of figurines on the edge of the market square near Wade's shop caught her eye. The griffon and dragon figures she had once given to Alistair stood on a table in her bedroom at Highever House. These seemed to be of similar quality. She sometimes purchased additional figurines, thinking that one day she could return the box of his personal items to him, including the new figurines.

She looked over the selection, finding one of Calenhad in glimmering white armor. Cailan had one like this, she recalled. It had been a gift from his father. She asked its price, bargained and put the wrapped figure in her satchel.

As she walked away from the stall, a scream came from nearby. Lys looked around for the source and saw Vaughn Kendall, the Arl of Denerim's son, grabbing a young elven woman and pulling her into an alley near Wade's. A few years older than Lys, she knew Vaughn Kendall to be a bully with a violent streak. As children she would sometimes have to resort to threats with fists and daggers when he proved too rough with her friends. Intervening now would not be the first time she had ended his brutish behavior. She had once challenged him to a duel after another incident with young elven women.

"Kendall, let her go," Lys commanded. "She has no interest in your attentions."

Keeping his grip on the auburn haired elf, he turned, "Ah, the Lady Cousland, coming to the rescue. Only this isn't one of your noble friends, my lady. This is an elf. An elf who doesn't belong in the market. I'm just going to escort her away."

"That worked so well for you the last time you tried that in my presence. Or have you forgotten, Vaughn?"

"Still think you could best me, Cousland. I doubt it. I'm not a boy anymore."

Lys sighed.  _Baiting him won't help._  "And why shouldn't she be in the market, Vaughn?"

"The elves have their own market in the Alienage. She should shop there, not here."

"Then call the Guard. They'll handle it. In fact, let me call them for you."

The elf tried to twist out of his grip as he spoke to Lys. "I'm here for Dame Moreton. I work for her," she hissed. "Cook sent me for herbs for dinner."

"Shut up, Elf." Vaughn commanded. As he spoke, Pippa and Myfanwy walked up behind Lys.

"Keeping out of trouble, I see," said Pippa.

"Should I walk away," Lys whispered.

"No, of course not. Should I get the guard?"

"Yes, otherwise I'll use my knives and that won't be good." Pippa walked off to find the Guard, while Myfanwy stood by Lys.

"That's my cousin," she murmured. "Kailian Tabris. She will stab him if we don't put a stop to this. She always has a dagger or two on her. She'll end up in prison if she hurts him."

"Let's stop him, then, or I may hurt him. I'll get him to release her and you get her away. Take her to Highever House." Lys whispered back. "Vaughn, the Guards have been sent for. Your father won't be happy to find they're bringing you home again. Don't be stupid. She's not worth it. Let her go."

"You bitch. You and that Broughten whore should be taught a lesson as well. Fine, here's your prize." He pushed Kailian down and stalked off. Myfanwy went to her cousin.

"Kai, it's me Myfanwy."

"Myfa, what are you doing here?"

"Lady Cousland and my lady, Broughten, are friends. Pippa went for the Guard. Lady Cousland wants you to come back to Highever House with us. Their healer will see to you bruises."

Kailian struggled to her feet, swaying a bit. "No need."

"We think it is. You can barely stand. A healer needs to attend to that bruise on your forehead. Lady Cousland can speak to your employer."

"Employer? Not for long. She won't want an elf who can't go to market. I'll just lose another post. Kendall has it in for me ever since I stopped him taking another girl from the Alienage."

"Taking?" Lys asked, walking up to the two elves.

"Sorry, My lady, this is Kailian Tabris, my cousin. Kai, this is Lady Lys Cousland." Kai gave a brief nod as Pippa walked up with a Guard.

"What's the trouble here, my lady," he asked, looking at Lys.

"Lord Kendall, although he thought better of his actions and left."

The Guard shook his head. "Better for me that he did. Arl Kendall never appreciates the Guards who bring young Lord Kendall home after his escapades."

"Escapades? Kidnapping has become an 'escapade' in Denerim? We consider it a more serious crime in Highever." Lys' voice came out more stridently then she had intended.

"Well, she's just an elf and a pretty one to boot. Probably gave the impression she'd welcome his attention for a few silver."

Myfanwy restrained Kailian, "I gave no such impression, shem. I don't sell myself to humans or elves."

Pippa looked at Lys, dismayed by the Guards attitude.

"Well, thank you I guess, for coming at Lady Broughten's request. I think we can resolve any further issues ourselves," Lys replied. The Guard saluted, head bowed and arms crossed on his chest, and walked away.

"Maker's Ear Lobes, I forget how prejudiced other Fereldans are towards elves. I am sorry Kailian. Please, come back to Highever House with us. We will see to your bruises and I may have a business proposition for you as well." Kailian looked up surprised.

"Well, now I am curious, my lady. Dame Moreton won't be happy that I lost the parcels and her coin."

"As to that, let's replace what you lost before we go. You should be safe with Pippa and me. I don't want her accusing you of theft on top of everything else."

Kailian looked at her in disbelief. "Got no coin, m'lady."

"No matter, I do. But before we go, what did you mean by taking?"

Kailian looked at Lys suspiciously.

"It's alright , Kai. Tell Lys what you meant."

"Taking girls for sport."

"Sport?"

"Him and his friends. They have parties."

"And these girls are… they are raped?"

"Evening's entertainment for Vaughn and his friends."

"And no one does anything?"

"They're elves, m'lady. Who would do anything?"

"In Highever, the guard would." She sighed. "How did you stop him?"

"Jumped on his back and beat him around the head."

Lys covered her mouth with her hand as she coughed to hide a laugh. "And he ran?"

"Like the cowardly bastard he is."

"And to think I actually used my blades… when I could have simply beat him up?"

"M'lady?"

"Oh, I challenged him to a duel in the market a few years ago. I caught him bothering two young girls."

Kai's eyes widened. "That was you!"

Lys looked confused.

"In the Alienage, you're a hero. Liana and Marina came back telling of a shem girl who attacked Kendall and let them escape."

"Oh, well, of course I did. Then I beat him in a duel. He's not fond of me either. Or Pippa, she was with me. It was hardly heroic."

Kailian looked at her rescuer with new eyes. Maybe this shem girl could help her keep her position.

"Let's go," Lys said. "We'll replace your purchases."

Going back to the market they looked for the packages Kai had dropped, but any lost goods had been promptly snatched up by the pickpockets and petty thieves who thrived in the crowd. Lys replaced the herbs, ribbons and soap Kailian lost when she ran from Vaughn Kendall. Then Lys hired a messenger to deliver the goods to Kailian's employer She enclosed a written message, sealed with her Cousland signet, saying Kailian had been injured, was being cared for at Highever House and would return to her post in the morning.

"Takes charge, doesn't she?" Kai asked her cousin, as they walked a few steps behind Lys and Pippa.

Laughing, Myfa replied, "Lys does know how to get things done. It's hard to believe she's only fourteen. You'll notice she made sure to write your employer a note sealed with her signet so there will be no doubt of its source."

"Fourteen! Maker, I'd have put her at my age or older. Your shem is fifteen, isn't she?"

"Kai, we don't call them shems. It's insulting. We use their names as they use ours. Her name is Lady Philippa Broughten, but we call her Pippa. Highever is different."

"You don't call her Pippa."

Smiling, Myfanwy replied, "Actually, when we're not in public, I do. When we shoot or spar or go riding I call her Pippa and I call Lady Cousland, Lys."

"Shoot and spar and ride?"

"My bow and my throwing knives and daggers and on horses, yes"

"They let you train and shoot?"

"I told you, Highever is different. Perhaps you'll find that out yourself one day."

"Unlikely." Kailian replied, as they rounded a corner and came to the gate of Highever House.

The four young women entered the front door and followed Lys up the stairway to the solar.

"We just came in the front door," Kai whispered to Myfa who just smiled at her cousin. "Right, different in Highever."

"Hello, all," Lys greeted her Mum, Arlessa Alys, Nyla and Oriana. "This is Kailian Tabris, Myfanwy's cousin. We met up in a rather unconventional way. We had a run in with Vaughn Kendall. No worries, Mum," Lys added, seeing her mother's apprehensive look. "No blood was shed, no blows were exchanged and no challenges offered. Pippa went for the Guard and I convinced Vaughn his father would not be happy to see him escorted home again. Must be Cousin Samuel's training," Lys grinned. "I've become quite persuasive. Vaughn left for the Gnawed Noble."

"What caused the run in, Lys?" Teyrna Eleanor asked, before she could continue.

"We found him attacking this young woman and trying to carry her away," Lys indicated Kailian. "She lost all her packages. We replaced the items and sent them to her mistress with a note from me. She's bruised from Kendall's bullying. I thought Nyla should take a look."

"Maker, Lys, you attract trouble." Teyrna Eleanor turned to Kailian. "I'm Eleanor Cousland, Kailian. Welcome to Highever House."

Thank you, Your Grace." Kailian curtsied.

"Sorry, Mum, I should have introduced you before I explained. Kailian, now you've met my Mum. This is Arlessa Alys Broughten, Pippa's Mum, and Lady Oriana Cousland, my good-sister. This is Nyla, who is a healer, and will look at your bruises, if that's agreeable."

"It's good to meet all of you," Kailian stammered and curtsied again.

"Come, Kailian, let's go to my rooms. Myfa perhaps you should accompany us? I think Kailian might be more comfortable with someone she knows, along for support." Nyla turned to Kailian, 'Have you ever been healed by a mage healer?"

"A ma…you use magic?"

"Mages usually do," Nyla smiled, "but we use potions and poultices as well. Come along, let's get you better."

"Calm down, Kai, Nyla is amazing. You'll be good as new in no time," Myfa assured her cousin as they walked. "Then, we'll go to the kitchens and hope Lys hasn't eaten all the honey cakes."

Nyla snickered. "Good luck with that, Myfa."

"We bought several dozen, Lady Nyla. Even Lys can't eat that many at once. Not if she hopes to avoid another Honey Cake debacle." At Kai's questioning look, Myfanwy explained. "She ate too many and threw up in front of every noble in Ferelden, including King Maric, when she was four."

"And she still eats them?"

"Whenever she can," Nyla chuckled. "Here Kailian, please drink this potion. It will ease the pain." She handed Kai a small cup.

"I have a question, cousin. Do you serve Dame Moreton as her lady's maid?"

Kai drank the potion. then wrinkled her nose, "Sort of? She's the widow of a merchant and doesn't need a house full of servants. I'm her maid when she needs me, but I also do other work. I help the cook and the gardener and see to the carriage horses, which are kept in the local stable. I don't clean. I hate cleaning. If you have a job as a parlor maid or some such, leave me out."

"So you can fix hair, arrange baths, mend clothing, dress a lady?"

"Yes."

A look of pleased surprise crossed Kailian's face as Nyla cast a healing spell. Myfanwy's next question pulled her attention back to her cousin.

"Do you still shoot?"

"Plan on reporting me? Yes, when I can sneak out to some safe spot. Daggers and throwing knives too. I still have Mama's blades, but they're hidden. I haven't used them in a long time. No one to spar with."

"Can you ride?"

"I can. Dame Moreton had a saddle horse, but she sold it a while back. I used to exercise her."

Nyla and Myfa raised their eyebrows.

"The horse, Myf. I exercised the horse. Maker, you haven't changed."

Myfanwy and Nyla exchanged looks. "Perfect!" they said in unison.

"Myfa , what's this about? What's perfect?"

"You'll see, "Myfanwy responded with a huge grin. Nyla finished healing Kailian's arm.

"Thank you for distracting her. I do think she will do quite well." Nyla added.

Kailian thanked Nyla, astonished at how quickly the bruising disappeared. "You're amazing Lady Nyla, thank you again."

Nyla, Myfanwy and Kailian returned to solar. They found the women gathered around the table in the sun sipping sweet tea and eating honey cakes and apples.

"Myfa. Kailian. Join us," Lys invited. Kailian went to sit on a bench she noticed against the wall, while Myfanwy sat in one of the chairs by the low table. She whispered a few words to Lys, who grinned, gathered cakes and apple slices on a plate and took it and two cups of tea over to Kailian.

Setting the plate and cups on the bench, she sat down indicating Kailian was not to rise. "Now, about that business proposition I mentioned. Mum tells me I need a lady's maid now that I am almost fifteen. I understand the need, but would prefer someone who can be a maid when I need one, but can also be a –a companion, I believe is the best description - on normal days when I don't. Someone who can accompany me when I ride, spar with me and travel with me. Pippa and I go to Nevarra several times each year. From what Myfa tells me, you have the skills such a companion would need. Would you be interested?"

"My lady, I…work for you?"

"Very much as Myfa does for Pippa. You would see a lot of Myfa , by the way. Pippa and I are quite inseparable. So if you hate your cousin it might not work out." Lys looked quite serious.

"Hate Myfa ? No, 'course not." Kailian notice Lys stifling a grin. "Are you joking, my lady?"

"Oh good. You have a sense of humor. Another requirement, you see, so I had to check."

"Not sure I can meet your… requirement? I'd like to try. Will I get paid?"

"Of course. Three sovereigns a month, clothing for work and of course you will live and eat at Castle Cousland, or the compound in Nevarra or here. You will have your own room and a horse. You should bring your weapons, if you have them, but you'll have use of our Armory." She noted Kailian's surprised gaze. "Maker, I'm an idiot. I've never done this before you see, hired a personal…well servant. I suppose it's different than your current position. Don't worry. We will work the rest out, I'm sure. You can talk to Myfanwy and find out if I missed anything. Do you think it satisfactory so far?"

"I think so, my lady. It…to be honest, it sounds too good to be true, but Myfa wouldn't fool me. I will have to speak with my father."

"Oh, of course. Um…we can invite him here or I can go with you to see him. Are you of age? Can you negotiate a job for yourself or must he approve?"

"No, I am seventeen, so I can decide for myself, but I would want his blessing."

"Of course, I would feel the same. I imagine you will need to give notice, as well. How long will you give?"

"A week. After today, I may be gone immediately. Dame Moreton…well I annoy her. She says I have an attitude. She'll believe I caused the incident in the market."

"Then a quick exit might be for the best. Would you like to see the room you will have here in Highever House? I can show you. The one at Castle Cousland will be similar."

"I…yes I would like that."

The two young women went upstairs to a room near Nyla's. It was large, full of sun, with an oversized single bed and a trundle beneath, in case she had visitors Lys explained. A large chest for her clothing stood beside a table and stool. "We'll add a stand and rack for your leathers and weapons." Lys noted.

"I suppose I should thank Vaughn Kendall," Kailian said. Lys looked at her, aghast. Kai grinned, "Wouldn't have met you otherwise, m'lady. I'd be without a job at best; with child or dead at worst."

"Dead! With child?" Lys recalled their earlier conversation . "Right, you said he takes girls to rape them. And the child – it would be human. So the girls are shunned?"

Kai nodded. That the shem girl knew all this surprised her. Highever must indeed be different.

"But dead?"

"Well, some never return. Bodies wash up on the shore, badly marked."

Lys shuddered. "Does no one complain? Not to the Arl of course, but to the King? What about your Hahren? You have one in Denerim don't you? Can he gain an audience with Teyrn Loghain?"

"Teyrn Loghain? The King?" Kai's bewildered look answered Lys' question.

"Right, you would have to go through the Arl. Stupid of me. I, however, do not have to go through the Arl. I can make sure King Maric, Teyrn Loghain and my father hear of this."

"You would do that, my lady?"

"Of course. We don't treat our people that way in Highever. Higheverport's Alienage is simply the neighborhood where the elves live, not a prison."

"You keep the gate open?"

"There is no gate. Elves can have their businesses anywhere and live where they chose. Ask Myf. Her family lives there."

Kailian still looked confused. "Their businesses?

"You'll see when we get home."

"Thank you my lady. You saved me. Kendall can't reach me in Highever can he? But, for him, I wouldn't have met you."

"Oh, we would have met. I asked Myfanwy earlier if she had knew anyone who fit my requirements. She mentioned you right away. You sounded perfect and you are."

Kailian blushed, "Thank you, my lady, It seems this was meant to be."

"It does. I am so pleased you said yes. Myfanwy's very excited for you, too. It's so nice you'll have family in Higheverport when you come."

Lys and Kailian returned to the solar, where Lady Alys, Pippa and Myfanwy were just leaving. "Kailian, we can take you to the Alienage Gate if you wish." Lady Alys offered. "Myfanwy can stay with you tonight. We'll stop by our townhouse to get her things first."

"She would be welcome. Father always likes news from Highever. I would…taking us to the Gate would keep us safer, my lady. Thank you." Lady Alys patted her arm and followed Pippa to the carriage.

A week later Kailian packed her few belongings, including her mother's blades, into the cart from Highever House, which had arrived to take her to her new position. It had all happened so quickly, she still did not quite believe it was real. For once, she had pleased her father and found a use for the martial skills her mother had taught her. She considered it a fresh start and was determined to succeed.

**9:24 Dragon === Haring === Haris Estate, Nevarra**

"You have beautiful hair, Lys," Kai said, as she pulled back one side of Lys' hair and braided it part way. She did the same to the opposite side, then braided the two together, ending at her shoulder blades before securing it and letting the remaining length of hair hang loose.

"Thanks, Kai. It looks much better now that you help me with it." Lys turned to her new companion. "I hated the idea of a lady's maid, Kai, but you've changed that view. I'm so glad we found you. You're perfect." Lys hugged her.

Kai still found Ly's hugs unexpected, but she had to admit she had come to like them. "Perfect?" Kai grinned. "That's a first. Folks have called me lots of names, but perfect has never been one them."

"Well, I think you are."

"You gave me a chance, my lady, to leave the Alienage.  Now I travel to Nevarra and have lessons – I never expected such things. You let Master Aldous teach me." She shook her head, "Me able to read and cipher so well. I still pinch myself some mornings to really believe I'm here."

"I'll tell you a secret, Kai. I do too. I know I said I wanted a companion, who would be more than a servant, but I didn't expect to find a friend. You've become that, you know. A friend. You and Myfa , both. Pippa and I are the lucky ones, I think."

Lys stood and gathered her gauntlets, fighting mask and helmet. "Now, hair's contained. Time to spar. The Wrath's trainer promised to watch us today."

"I won't argue with that, my lady."

"Good. Get your blades. And this time let's practice those stealth moves I taught you. Maybe that will impress him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. As a new author, I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.
> 
> Huge thanks to my beta Kira Tamarion. This chapter definitely improved after I took her suggestions. I look forward each week to her insightful comments. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and Reviewed – most recently Guest( I think I know who you are, but couldn’t reply), Eastern Violet, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Pollyanna24, clafount and KatDancer2. Thanks for the thoughtful feedback. 
> 
> There are appendices with background assumptions on timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. in AO3. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure (remove spaces and copy): archive of our /works/692656/chapters/1273563


	27. The Rasiae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wintermarch 9:25 Highever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 27: THE RASIAE**

* * *

**9:25 Dragon Wintermarch === Highever**

"Have you finished packing?"

Kai looked at Lys. "I have, but I'm puzzled."

"Good."

Sometimes Lys could be …imperious, that was the word. Kai's vocabulary had grown in the months since she came to Highever. She had surprised herself by enjoying her lessons with Aldous; he seemed pleased by her enthusiasm. As for Lys, while she had come to love her, at times Lys could be annoying. Now was one of those times. "I'm just not sure I'll like camping in the cold."

"You will enjoy this trip. You'll see."

"You have a tent and everything else in that pack?"

"I have what we will need."

Kai sighed. Lys was up to something, but she had no idea what. Maker, I hope we stay in one of the Cousland hunting lodges and not in a tent. Camping with no shelter in Wintermarch has no appeal.

The two young women rode west towards Star Lake. Starfall pranced, anticipating the freedom to gallop across the open land ahead. Kailian rode Hitch. She could ride well enough, but preferred the smooth gait and more tractable temperament of the Nevarran jennet. Their packs were lashed onto the back of their saddles.

"I'm going to let Starfall gallop to the Lake. I'll wait for you there. You'll be alright from here?"

"Yes, go ahead. Hitch and I will run too. Just more slowly."

Lys arrived at the lakeshore where it met the forest. Several Dalish waited for her there. She dismounted and rushed over to hug a Dalish girl who did not yet have her vallaslin.

"Aneth ara. Sari, it's so good to see you."

"Aneth ara. You too, Melys. Did you bring your friend?"

"Yes, she's on Hitch. I galloped ahead. She doesn't know we're meeting you."

"Oh, Melys. You love your surprises too much."

"I do, but it stopped her from worrying about meeting the Rasiae. She's only heard of the Dalish from Alienage elves who've been turned away from Dalish camps. This way, you're just here. She thinks we're camping for a few days by the lake."

Kailian rode up cautiously. She knew Lys sometimes visited a Dalish clan, but had never met them. Apparently, that would change today. She remained on Hitch near where Lys had tethered Starfall, not sure how to greet her Dalish cousins. The Dalish had a fearsome reputation in the Alienage. One did not approach them casually.

Lys and a Dalish girl, with red hair and a dusting of freckles across her cheeks, walked over to her. "Kai, I have someone I want you to meet."

Kai dismounted and Lys grabbed her hand. "Kai, this is Sarien Fenharial. Sari, this is Kailian Tabris."

The two elves stared at each other. "Andaran atish'an, Kailian. Hello." Then, Sarien extended her hand. "I think you greet each other with a handshake?"

Kai nodded. "We have many bad habits picked up from the humans, but I don't think a handshake is one of them. Bad that is." She took Sarien's hand.

Sari smiled. "No it is a good one, I agree." She grabbed Kai's shoulder with her left hand to emphasize her greeting. " Welcome."

Sarien dropped Kai's hand. "But we are elvhen. We should greet each other as such." She placed her right hand on Kai's shoulder and pressed her forehead to Kai's. "You will be greeted like this in our camp. As will Melys. "We, " she indicated her companions, "will take you to our clan's camp. I hope you enjoy your stay with us."

"Stay?"

Sarien smiled. "Yes. Melys apparently kept your destination secret. My family invited you and Melys to stay with us."

Kai put her hands on Sarien's shoulders. "I should do this then?"

Sari smiled. "Yes."

"Good to know." Kai looked at Lys as they gathered their horses' reins and followed Sarien. "We're camping with the Dalish, My Lady?"

Lys smirked. "I am no one's lady while we are here. I stay with them every spring after returning from Nevarra. You'll like staying in an aravel. And you'll improve your archery."

Fenriel stepped forward as the three young women approached. "Greetings. I am Fenriel," he said to Kai. "You are Kailian?"

Kai smiled, shyly. "Kailian Tabris."

"Andaran atish'an, Kailian. Shall we go?"

"Yes, Fenriel. Kai and I will walk Hitch and Starfall." Lys glanced at Sarien. "Unless you want to ride, Sari?"

"Very funny, Melys."

Giggling , Lys took Starfall's reins and followed Sari into the woods. "Sari, tried riding Starfall last year," she whispered to Kai. "She insisted and I asked Starfall to be gentle…it didn't go well."

"Maybe she can try Hitch?"

"I'll let you suggest that. It won't be taken well if I do."

"Anything I should know? Customs? Manners?"

"No. That is I don't know. You're an elf. It may be different. You're invited. I asked before I brought you along. We'll talk to Ariel tonight. That's Sari's mum…mama or mamae."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Kai. Sorry I didn't tell you, but you would have silently worried yourself to death if I had. I thought a surprise would be better."

"I hate to admit it, but you're right. Now I'm worried and anxious and excited…but I'm here. They won't hate me for being a flat ear?"

Lys looked to Sarien who had walked up beside them.

"You can answer, Melys. It was your argument that convinced us." Sarien said.

"No, most won't. You didn't choose to be born a city elf any more than Sarien chose to be born Dalish. The Chantry and Orlesians forced those choices upon your ancestors when they conquered the Dales. I've had that discussion with Keeper Lilia, her First and Sarien and her family. Some may be less friendly, but no one will be nasty."

"She's right, Kailian. You don't know any better." Kai's eyes grew wide, then narrowed.

Sarien's serious look, softened into a grin. "And neither do we. We'll teach you while you're here, just as we have taught Melys. Perhaps you can tell us of the life you led in the Alienage."

Kai realized the Dalish girl had a sense of humor. Well, of course she would. She was Lys' friend. "I am interested in learning about the Dalish culture; perhaps I will speak of the Alienage. Why do you call her Melys?"

"We wanted a name for her unique to her friendship with us. She objected to a new name or an elvhen name, since she is not an elf. She suggested Melys, which is the short name of an honored Cousland ancestor who also bore the name Melysande. We agreed on Melys as her Dalish name. It should only be used when she is with us."

"That's a lovely custom."

"Thank you. Perhaps we will have to find a name for you."

"Adaia."

"What?"

"Adaia. My mother's name. I use it as my second name, Kailian Adaia Tabris. I had no second name, so I took it when my mother died, to honor her. If the Dalish should think I deserve a Dalish name, I would like it to be Adaia."

"Your mother died? Will you tell us how?"

Lys turned to look at Kai. She had never told Lys her mother's name or how she died. Myfa had told Pippa it was Kai's story to tell and would say no more.

"Perhaps. Let's see if I gain your clan's respect first. It is not a story I usually share."

Sarien nodded. "We can respect that. Now, we come to the camp."

Kai looked around her. She and Lys had simply followed the Dalish. There had been no obvious path. Now, the dense forest had opened up. One large clearing appeared ahead, with smaller open areas around it. Large wooden structures… houses? …on wheels were scattered throughout the clearings. These must be the aravels Lys mentioned.

Two Dalish men took the horses' reins from Kai and Lys, after the girls removed their packs. They led Starfall and Hitch away.

"I will take you to meet Keeper Lilia, and then my parents. You can rest and clean up from your travels at our aravel. We can meet the rest of the clan later."

Lys and Kai followed Sarien to an aravel at the center of the encampment.

"Aneth ara, Melys." Keeper Lilia smiled at the human girl befriended by her clan.

"Aneth Ara, Keeper Lilia, Ma serannas," Lys responded. "I thank Clan Rasiae for accepting me into your camp." Lys put her arm around Kailian. "May I introduce Kailian Adaia Tabris, my good friend. I thank you for inviting her."

"Andaran atish'an, Kailian. We welcome you to our clan camp."

"Ma serannas? Keeper…Lilia?"

The keeper laughed. "You catch on quickly, lethallan – I hope you don't mind my familiarity in calling you cousin."

"I…no, I am honored. I'm just a bit overwhelmed. Ly…Melys made this a surprise. Which is fine. I would have been even more nervous anticipating…but-"

"-you're babbling, Kai." Lys chuckled.

"Sarien, perhaps you should take Melys and Kailian to your aravel. Let them settle themselves. First Vaniden will greet you later, lethallans."

Lys and Kai followed Sarien as they left the Keeper. They walked through the central area of the camp where the Dalish carried out their everyday work. In front of one aravel, Kai saw goods spread out on a table and on blankets. Some items were clearly from the world outside the clan, others appeared to be elvish items. Two women bargained over the price of some hand-carved wooden buttons. Near the next aravel, several women and a few men wove on small looms or spun using distaff and spindle. Across the path, a smith worked his trade some distance from his aravel. Two boys and a girl helped. Beside them, in front of another aravel, several young people worked wood into bows and arrow shafts. Walking farther, they passed a central gathering place on their right where a large fire blazed. Many young children sat around what appeared to be teachers.

Around this central area, many more aravels dotted the forest clearings. Beyond the campsite, the forest thickened again as if to shield the Dalish camp from prying eyes. Stopping to look around, Kai saw an aravel at the far edge of the camp, beyond the central fire circle. A group of elves sat in front of the aravel while they dressed game and treated hides. On the other side of camp, was what appeared to be a pen that held white animals the size of large deer or stags. Kai's eyes widened, she smiled, "Makers Breath, are those halla?"

Sari glanced in the direction Kai stared, "Yes. We have a large herd to assist us with all these aravels."

Andraste's Knickers, Kai, you look like you've seen a griffon." Lys chuckled.

"I feel like I have. They tell stories in the Alienage, but many did not believe halla existed. Can we visit later?"

"Of course, Kai." Sari laughed. "We love our halla. Your horses will be kept nearby as well. We set up a separate pen for them, but Hitch, especially, gets along well with the halla. Now come and meet my parents."

The girls turned away from the center toward one of the more distant small clearings with a single aravel. A cook fire crackled in front of it. On the opposite side of the fire, a lean-to faced into the campsite. Benches provided seating near the fire.

"That's our aravel. You'll stay inside with us. It's a little crowded, but warm. If it gets too warm, the lean-to is always there."

"Sari's mum is the clan's healer, mid-wife and herbalist." Lys said. "I've learned a lot from her. Her vallaslin honors Sylaise. If I were Dalish, Sylaise would probably be the Creator I would honor. Sylaise taught the elvhen spinning and weaving, as well."

Sarien laughed. "It surprised me to discover that, Kailian. I thought Melys would surely honor Anrdruil. She has killed large game and a wolf; she excels at both bow and blades. Then I remember how she saved me. It was not with bow or blade, but with her healing knowledge. Some few, like Melys, have many talents, but the Creator who favors you most will show eventually. If Melys were Dalish she would surely wear the vallaslin of Sylaise."

"Do you ever have a vallaslin that shows the favor of two creators?"

"No, Kailian, although that is an intriguing thought. You mean, for Melys, a second mark of some sort to indicate she is beloved of Andruil too? It's an interesting idea. Sylaise and Andruil are sisters after all. We should ask the Keeper Lilia. It may happen, for those few who are so favored, but I know of none."

Lys had gone ahead of them and was already greeting Ariel and Finnian when Kai and Sarien walked up.

"Andaran atish'an, Kailian. We welcome you to our aravel."

"Andaran atish'an. I thank you for inviting me to stay with you. I am honored."

Ariel came forward and put her hands on Kai's shoulders. Kai reciprocated and they touched foreheads.

Kai turned to greet Finnian, who laughed. "I like you already, lethallan. You catch on to our customs quickly. Please join us at the hearth fire."

Kai noticed each campsite had a small fire nearby for cooking and, she surmised, gathering as a family. In a few places, she noticed two and even three aravels gathered around a common fire. She could still see a large fire at the center of the camp, where many children and a few adults remained gathered. Finnian saw her looking at the camp.

"The large fire is our common gathering place. During the day, the children gather for lessons, as they are now. The work aravels form the center of our camp. Each craft group, such as the smiths, the bowyers and woodworkers, and the cloth makers, has an aravel for its supplies, tools, and products. The tanner's aravel is at the edge of camp, always upwind, to allow the smell to be carried away. Our hunters dress and prepare the game there as well. Some larger families have two or three aravels and gather around a common fire. Sadly, both Ariel and my parents have died. I am an only child. Ariel's sisters bonded with men in other clans at the last Arlathvhen and chose to join them there."

"So the woman joins the man's clan?"

"Not always. It depends on the skills needed by the two clans. Deciding which clan to join is part of the bonding negotiations. During the Arlathvhen, which happens every ten summers, bonding between clans is encouraged to strengthen our bloodlines. Between Arlathvhen, we bond within our clans most of the time."

"That seems fair. Actually, it works the same way in the Alienage when we bond with someone from another city. Does the couple have any say?"

"Ah, I can see you've spent time with Melys…or is that what drew you together? A belief in fairness and choice."

"A little of both, I guess. We do tend to view things the same way a lot of the time." She studied Finnian's vallaslin. "Which creator favors you? Or is that a rude question?"

"No, no. not rude at all. Not one we Dalish ask each other, but not rude coming from an invited guest. My vallaslin is that of June."

"June?"

"Creator of Crafts. I craft wood and weapons. Those favored of June and Sylaise often bond. We provide the crafts and healing and textiles which allow our people to survive. Ariel and I have a happy union." He grinned. "Melys seems to think that you might do well as a crafter of bows and fletcher of arrows."

Kai glanced quickly at her friend, "She might be correct. I hunt and fight well, as she does, but it is not my love. Doing it well is important. Defending my friends and myself is important. And I am not a healer or spinner or weaver or herbalist." She giggled. "Maker… oh sorry…I'm just so bad at those things. I can cook. I do like to make and fletch arrows. I've never tried to make a bow."

"Then we will try while you are here."

"I'd like that. Thank you. Ma Serannas?"

"Yes, that is the phrase. We'll teach you our language – your language - as we work."

Kai grinned. This was going to be fun! Lys was, as usual, right. Not for the first time she thanked the Maker, well, maybe the Creators, for bringing Lys and her together.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The next morning Lys sat with Ariel at the fire. A small pot of water sat in the coals, heating. Lys, using a wooden mortar and pestle, ground herbs, as Ariel prepared to make a potion. Two other women had joined them, bringing dried herbs, and would work on the potions. Kai watched until Sarien came up to her.

"Papa wants you to join him at his workbench. Come with me, I'll take you to him."

Kai fell into step with Sarien. She was a bit taller than the Dalish girl, which surprised her. In the Alienage, she had always been told the Dalish were taller than Alienage elves. Then again, she had no idea about her mother's origins. Neither of her parents had been forthcoming when she asked questions. Perhaps there was Dalish in her background. Adaia had been taller than average too, with a swarthy complexion. Kai had inherited her mother's height and temperament, at least according to her father and Hahren Valendrian. Mama did not have my luck, though. No one rescued her from the shemlens and the guards who killed her. Her use of shemlen, even in her head, surprised her. I suppose I divide people into humans, like Lys and the Couslands and most people in Highever, and shemlens, like Vaughan. Sori might even approve of using shem for humans like Vaughn.

"Papa, here is Kailian." They had arrived at the aravel in the center of camp where she had seen the young people working with wood the day before.

"Please join us, Kailian. We will make arrows for the hunt tomorrow. We have the birch shafts already cut and dried. We have a supply of heads. Today we'll be nocking, fletching and attaching the heads. I would like to show you how we do it, if I may?"

"Yes, of course. I would love to learn." Kai watched Finnian first notch, then attach a head and finally add the fletching to a shaft.

"Darae is my…apprentice, I think you call him. I'd like the two of you to work together. I need to finish that bow for Hunter Asharien, Darae. I'll be here if either of you need help."

"As you wish, Finnian." The young Dalish man replied.

Kai sat on a bench next to Darae. She smiled, "Andaran atish'an. My name is Kai."

The man glared at her. "Darae," he replied, giving Finnian a sideways glance.

"Not fond of flat-ear visitors, then?"

"You are the invited guest of our clan."

"Not an answer."

"It's the only one I'll give."

Finnian had started to walk away, but he turned back, "Darae, consider that none of us chose where we are born. It's what we make of the life gifted to us by the Creators that matters."

Kailian felt herself blushing. I didn't mean for him to be scolded.

Darae stiffened. It was a gentle scolding. Finnian rarely made harsh comments. He glanced at the young elf next to him. I could try to be more pleasant. I just hope she can actually do this. We need to complete several score for the hunt.

"Let me show you how we do this, then you can try. We'll start by notching all the shafts. That's pretty simple."

Once Kai had shown him she could manage, they attacked the pile of shafts notching each in turn.

"So, what's it like in an Alienage?"

"Unpleasant and wonderful at the same time. At least it is in Denerim."

"How can it be both?"

"Unpleasant because most humans there don't treat us well. The city guard can close the Alienage gates whenever they choose. When they do, you need a pass to leave and go to work. If they lock it down completely, meaning no one can leave, your employer makes you live at your workplace. Usually crowded into the basement or attic with the other elven servants. Sometimes there are riots. Frequently there's disease – well there is always disease, frequently some sort of epidemic.

In spite of all that, we have good times too. Fest days and weddings and children being born. We eat and drink and dance. It's home. Alienage elves care about each other, but it's a hard life. I was lucky, I guess. My mama taught me to use weapons. My papa earned good coin at Bann Rodolf's estate. We had a house, a small garden, enough food and clean clothing."

Darae looked at her, "Clean?"

"To have clean clothing, you must have more than one set. One to wear while the other is washed and dried. Only the wealthier elves have more than one set of clothes."

She ignored his horrified look, as she continued notching the next shaft. "Higheverport, is different. It's a city, too. It has an Alienage, but it's not gated. The Alienage is just another section of Higheverport. It's crowded, but elves can have businesses; they can work anywhere and must be paid a fair wage; and they can carry weapons and travel freely. They have coin and can support themselves. The elves there have pride. Almost the way you Dalish do. They stand tall and won't let the humans or dwarves order them about. I had rarely seen anything like it, until I arrived in Highever."

"What makes Higheverport different?"

"The Couslands and the Broughtens, I think. They are the ruling nobles. They have different ideas about…well about everything. The Teyrn and the Arl's families have made it better over the generations. I think it was once like the rest of Thedas, but it's not now. You should ask Lys…Melys, she explains it better than I do."

"So you would stand up to a shem?"

"I did. That's what got me into trouble."

"What do you mean?"

"We're almost done here. Maybe you should show me how you attach the heads, then I'll tell you my story while we fix the heads on the shafts."

Darae nodded. She's not what I expected. I thought the flat-ears could not use weapons. I believed they were subservient, sneaky and without honor. She is not that way at all. Then, she is a friend of Melys who is not what we expected either.

As if to echo his thoughts, Kailian said, "You know, I thought of all humans as shems before I met Ly…Melys. She, her family, and her friend Pippa taught me that a shem is a bad human, but that not all humans are bad. I know bad elves, too. Elves in the Alienage who cheat, steal and hurt other elves. We all have our good and bad and indifferent brothers and sisters."

Darae laughed. "So you don't call Melys a shem?"

"Not unless I want to spar with her." Kailian giggled, then became more serious. "No. I owe my life to her." She told Darae her story.

They finished attaching the heads as mid-day approached. Praising them both for the progress they had made and their fine work, Finnian told them to return to their families for the mid-day meal. "Come back after the meal and we can finish the fletching ."

"Aren't you coming to the aravel for the meal?" Kai asked.

"I'll be along. I have a few things to finish here, but you go on. I'll join you all soon."

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Kai returned to the cook fire to find Lys and Ariel completing the dinner. She saw glass containers, sealed with wax, lined up on the table, which stood next to the aravel. Each had a label. Ariel, her helpers and Lys had been busy.

"Perfect timing as always. Just in time not to help." Lys teased. "Actually, can you get some water? The skins are almost empty. The spring and pond are over there," she added, as she pointed to small rocky outcrop just beyond the line of aravels near the halla pen.

When she returned, Kai studied the large wooden aravel. Colorful cloth banners hung from it. One was held up by posts and stretched out almost to the fire, shading the worktable from the sun. Sturdy, storage bins hung between the wheels. Finnian had lined one bin with thin metal to deter insects and rodents from getting to the food the Fenharial's stored there. Lys and Sari sat on benches around the fire, already. Kai joined them. The warmth felt good in the cool Wintermarch weather.

Ariel dished out the venison stew she and Lys had prepared.

"You can cook?" Kai asked.

Lys smirked. "Surprised?"

"Well, yes. Not something I expect a young noble woman to do. Nor is it something I've seen you do before this."

"Actually, I learned in the Castle Cousland kitchens from our Cook, Nan. She was Fergus' nurse and moved to the kitchens, as he got older. She decided to remain a cook when I was born, but, as I got older and she became Head Cook, she didn't mind if I went to stay with her. She'd just tell me stories and put me to work. I learned to bake first." She grinned. "No knives needed. Then to cook. I always help Ariel when I'm here and I learn new things. I don't have as much time to cook at home now, but sometimes I still do."

"Huh. There's no end to 'things are different in Highever' is there."

"No, Kai. There really isn't. " Lys laughed thinking of the Arethian influences which made Highever different. " You really don't know the half of it."

"So, Sarien, what do you learn from the Keeper, if I may know." Kai asked.

Sarien looked at her parents, who nodded. "I study to possibly be a First and maybe a keeper, but, since we already have a First, it may be with another clan or not at all. Keeper Lilia may be old, but she is healthy and First Vaniden is only fifteen summers older than I am. We are fortunate, as a clan, to have the three of us able to take on the First and Keeper duties."

Kai stared at her startled. "But that means…." Kai stopped.

"That I have magic, yes."

"Wow. I mean, I think that's great. I find magic amazing. Well, all I know is healing magic, really. With the mercenary company, I've seen some other kinds from a distance. Fireballs are quite impressive. As are freezing and lightening spells. So what kind of magic do you have as a Dalish? Is it different?" She looked around. "Should I even be asking?"

Lys covered her mouth hiding a smile.

The Fenharial family all laughed. "Of course you can ask, Kailian. If we can't say, we will tell you."

"Oh good. Sometimes I put both feet in my mouth and it's hard to get them out."

"It's clever of you to realize Dalish magic may be different. It is. It's more attuned to nature, although we can do what the Chantry mages call primal magic – fire, lightening, cold and so forth. Our magic is more earth magic – similar to the primal earth magic Chantry mages do. Apparently, elves can do all the magics the Chantry allows, because those taken to the Circle of Magi learn them with no difficulty. As Dalish, we just do not choose to follow that path. For example, we do no spirit magics. We do have shape shifters, but no blood magic. My secret wish is to shape shift," Sarien confessed. "I hope to find a keeper at the next Arlathvhen to teach me. Fortunately, the next one is in two summers. Neither Lilia or Vaniden shapeshift."

"What animal would you be? Shapeshifters become animals, right?"

"A bird, I think. Perhaps a hawk, but any type really. I would love to fly."

"Maker, that would be amazing. Oh, should I say Creator…?"

Finnian had joined them and laughed. "Say what is comfortable, Kai."

"So, Sarien, your Creator, who would that be if you have magic and might be a Keeper?"

"A keeper may be the favored of any creator. It is something we must determine for ourselves then discuss with our families and the Keeper. Mine is not so obvious as Melys'."

"Is hers so obvious then?"

"Well, certainly her preference is. You would not choose to be a hunter would you, Melys?"

"No, always a healer and weaver. I prefer to put things together, not tear them apart." Lys confirmed. "So, were I Dalish, I would choose Sylaise…or she would chose me."

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Finnian held out a recurved ironwood bow to Kaillian. "I want you to use this in the competition tomorrow."

"Competition?"

"Yes. Melys didn't tell you?"

Kai frowned and glanced at Lys. "No."

"Ah, there is a clan wide competition among the younger elves. You and Melys have been invited to compete."

"That's an honor." Kai took the bowKai took the bow. "It's very much like Lys' bow."

"As much alike as two bows can be. It's slightly shorter, but otherwise the same. I think you are quite strong and can handle a bow like Lys'. Certainly you are as strong as she."

"I'd be honored to use your bow. May I practice?"

"Of course. I gave it to you now so you could. You know where to find the archery targets. Go. I don't need you here for the rest of the day.

Kai walked over to the edge of the camp, just beyond the aravel where the hunters dressed their kill and the tanners tanned the hides. Fortunately, the wind blew most of the odors from that place into the forest and away from the camp. She strung her new bow and practiced aiming and drawing to get it's feel before she nocked her first arrow. Chanting the orders in her head – ready, nock, mark, draw - she loosed the arrow and hit the target. Not centered, but not bad for a first shot with a new bow. Kai continued to practice until she could hit the center area every time. She did not expect to win the competition on the morrow, but she did not plan to embarrass herself or Lys, either.

"I did not know the flat ears knew how to use a bow." The voice behind her was not unfriendly, just surprised.

Kai turned to find a young man watching her shoot. "Most don't. My mother taught me. And before you ask, no I don't know how she learned. She came to the Denerim Alienage from the northern lands. She never told anyone where."

"Was she Dalish?"

"She had no vallaslin."

"So probably not, unless she left when young."

"Anything is possible. Am I in your way?" Kai asked. "I've been here a long time. I'm sorry. It's a new bow and I want to get used to it before the competition tomorrow. My name is Kailian, by the way."

The man laughed, "Yes, we all know your name and Melys'. I am Padraig. I'll be competing too." He stepped up to the mark and took his stance. He shot a score of arrows, all hitting at or near the center mark.

"You're good," Kai said. She had unstrung her bow, but stayed to watch him shoot.

"Thank you, but you and Melys will offer us serious competition I think. I look forward to the contest."

"Are you a hunter then?"

"No, a smith, but we all learn to shoot. We all take turns standing watch around the camp. We will all fight if the need arises. Being a good archer is something we all strive for, not just the hunters."

"But shooting at a target and shooting at game or…moving targets, is not the same. How do you know you could defend your camp?"

"We all hunt occasionally. We take our turn with the hunters, just as we take our turn standing watch. Hunting is just not our specialty."

"I see. The humans do the same. The human nobles anyway. Melys' family hunts frequently. Their guard also patrols the roads and hunts bandits, so they get practice against them as well."

"And your people in the cities?"

"My people don't defend themselves at all. I'm the exception. Well, the Highever elves do, of course. Just not the others."

"It must be a hard life."

"Yes. Moments of happiness, but generally a hard life."

"I wish you luck tomorrow, Kailian" he grinned, as he walked to the target to gather his arrows, "but not too much."

"The same for you, Padraig."

Kai gatherer her quiver and bow and started back towards the Fenharial's aravel.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The weeks with the Dalish sped by. As expected, neither Melys or Kai won the competition, but both shot well. Kai began to learn to work the wood and make arrows and then her first bow. She made a simple short bow from ash and pine, which Finnian insisted she take with her.

Lys participated in her first birthing as she assisted Ariel in a delivery. Between her herbal studies with Nyla and her time with Ariel, Lys' healing skills continued to improve. They had already benefitted the Highever guard. On maneuvers the prior autumn, she had easily handled minor injuries, leaving the mages to preserve their mana for more serious breaks and internal injuries.

Sitting around the fire after the meal one evening, Sarien asked Kai how the Dalish camp compared to the Alienage.

"Which one?"

Sari looked puzzled.

"Well, the Highever Alienage is quite different from the Denerim Alienage. I suppose I would say the Highever Alienage is more like a Dalish camp in some ways. It's self-contained by choice. The Highever elves don't have to live there. They choose to live there because…" she glanced as Lys who cocked her head curiously, "…well, because they want to ensure, as best they can, that elves marry other elves. If they lived intermixed with humans, we assume that elves and humans would marry more frequently. Intermarriage would result in further decline in the elven population. Eventually we would be no more. It's a paradoxical problem," she smirked when Lys grinned at her use of the word paradoxical, "created where there is less prejudice against elves I think. Where we are free to mingle with humans, we must guard against too much mingling. Intermarriage in Highever is not wholly accepted by either race, but it's not a crime like it is in Denerim."

At this Lys looked up, "What do you mean a crime?"

"Elves and humans can't marry in Denerim. The Chantry won't marry them. Elven men can't be with human women, they'll get whipped. Human men, on the other hand…they can do what they want. If an elven woman submits and lives, but becomes pregnant, the Chantry takes the child, which appears human, even if the elf wants to keep it. If elves resist being raped they are arrested or worse, particularly if they carry arms. My mother resisted the Denerim guard one too many times. They killed her."

"Kai! That's…horrible. I can't imagine…" Lys stared at her horrified.

"She taught me all I know of bow and blades. You know my blades were hers. And, yes, it was horrible."

"This is not a story you share is it?" Ariel asked gently.

"No. I miss her. She was crazy and funny and she loved me very much. My father, Cyrion, was always serious, but she could make him laugh. I never could." She smiled at Lys. "Melys saved me there too. He is so proud that I serve the daughter of the Teyrn of Highever. If he only knew…."

Lys chuckled quietly as she moved to sit by Kai and put her arm around her.

"I think Adaia would be most appropriate as your Dalish name, if that is what you want. We hope you will visit us many times for as long as you want."

"Thank you." Kai responded quietly.

"So how did Melys save you?" Sari asked. "You said it was more than giving you a position."

"I attacked a human. A human noble actually. The son of the ruling Arl of Denerim."

"You said they could do what they want. What do they want with the elves?" Sarien asked.

"The man I attacked wanted some elves to entertain him and his friends. I beat him up."

Sari grinned, "I know it's not funny, but…how big was he?"

"Big. I jumped on his back, tho' so he couldn't get at me and beat him around the head." She smirked. "His friends laughed at him, until some other elves started attacking them. They all left, but he had it in for me. When he found me in the market shopping for my mistress he tried to carry me away to his estate. That's when Melys stepped in and saved me. Quite literally. "

Sarien looked at Lys. "That was brave of you."

Lys shrugged. "Not really. I'd bested him before. He's a pig and a bully. Actually, pigs can be cute, calling him that is an insult to the pig. He's awful. But nobles, particularly sons, get away with far more than other humans do. It's unfair and we try not to allow it in Highever." Grinning, she said, "Fergus and I don't get away with anything."

"Highever is much more fair. If Vaughan were Arl Broughten's son, he would not get away with what he does in Denerim." Kai added.

"No, he would not. Maybe he won't in Denerim next time either."

"Why not," Sari asked, "if his father is the ruler of the town?"

"Because my father is a Teyrn and friend of King Maric. And the other Teyrn, Loghain, is my friend too. I told Kai's story to both of them. They spoke with King Maric. Unfortunately, changes do not happen overnight. And sons of Arls do not get the punishment they deserve, but the King has spoken with Arl Urien. Things may change, if slowly."

"You did?" Kai asked, surprised.

"I did. Of course I did. I said I would."

"You never told me."

"Nothing has changed. There was nothing to tell."

"Thank you, Lys."

Lys smiled, "You're welcome, Kai, but thank me when it gets better. Sometimes my complaints to the Teyrns and the King get no results." She smiled ruefully at Kai.

"Perhaps we should rethink your Creator. Dirthamen perhaps, the Keeper of Secrets?" Sari smirked.

"No. I keep no secrets. I just see no point in discussing something until there are results. I like to weave, put things together, create whole cloth from threads, not keep secrets and work in the darkness. Even my work with Cousin Samuel creates new contracts and trade agreements, which benefit Highever and Ferelden. Yes, we gather information from a wide network of informants and some of it is secret, but it helps us build better agreements. And yes, it's for profit, but many profit when trade is prosperous. No, I think Sylaise would be the Creator who I would like to favor me, were I Dalish."

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

"Are you ever tempted to just stay?" Kai rode Hitch beside Lys on Starfall as they headed toward Castle Cousland.

"Every year. The Dalish life is so purposeful, yet happy. Finnian always reminds me that their peaceful life in Highever is the exception. The Highever Guard do not harass them. The Chantry ignores them. No templars raid their camp. It's one of the few safe camps. In the Brecilian, there are roving bands of templars who sometimes attack the Dalish seeking their keepers, firsts, and other mages. He also tells of other fearsome places where demons and spirits abound. They try to avoid them, but sometimes they cannot. Every so often there are even darkspawn raids. Or Chasind raiders. And traveling through the Bannorn is always dangerous. Templars. Angry farmers. It's not the idyllic life it seems here. It's why they stay so long. From Kingsway until Drakonis or even Cloudreach. The Coast Range passes can hold snow until very late some years.

"If I could bring Ali here and know he was safe, I would stay in a minute. He would just endanger the Rasiae, though, so it's not a solution."

"How can you know you would still love him? Or he, you?"

"I don't know how he would feel. It's likely he wouldn't. I failed him, after all. His letters are very brief, although Loghain tells me it pains him to write, so he keeps them short."

"Maybe he wants to be a templar?"

"No. No, that isn't Ali. Chasing mages? No. A soldier, yes. Defending Ferelden or a part of it. Yes. Not hunting mages. He loved Nyla. He understands mages are people and that magic is a gift."

Changing the subject, Lys asked, "Would you stay?"

"Like you I would be tempted. I liked them and I didn't expect to. Can we go back?"

"Of course, every year if we want to. It's an honor that they accept us." The rode quietly for a while. "I didn't thank you for telling us your story. I know there is nothing I can say that is adequate, but you will always have a home with us, Kai."

"Thank you. That means a lot Melys…oh, I should say Lys now ." She smiled. "When will Sari get her vallaslin? I wasn't clear on that."

"Within a few years, she will need to decide on which creator favors her. They offered it to me, too."

"A vallaslin?"

"Yes." She giggled. "Can you imagine Mum's face!"

"Oh Maker, Lys. You Mum is wonderful, but that may be too much, even for her. Actually, I think your Papa might take it better. Did you accept?"

"No. I said I would consider it and give them an answer when Sari decides, with the Keeper, whose vallaslin she will receive. That perhaps we should get them together since we are sisters of a sort. She is still unsure of her favored Creator, so it will be a while I think. Maybe they will offer it to you as well by then. Would you?"

"Yes. I like their gods, their Creators. They speak to me more than Andraste and the Maker. Well, the Maker. I like some of the Andraste stories. I would have to think on which one. I'd need to learn more. My father will be horrified too."

Both girls coaxed their horses to quicken their pace as the laughed at the thought of outraged parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I researched what I could find about Dalish lore and customs and made up the rest. This will become my canon for I Shall Endure as Lys and Kai visit the Dalish in future chapters. I would welcome any comments or corrections you might have. Much as I love twisting the timelines – in matters of custom and culture I try to keep close to what we know of lore and canon as possible. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. As a new author, I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.
> 
> Huge thanks to my beta Kira Tamarion. I appreciate her keeping me in check on Dalish lore and canon. I look forward each week to her insightful comments. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and Reviewed –Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount and KatDancer2. Thanks for the thoughtful feedback. 
> 
> There are appendices with background assumptions on timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. in AO3. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure (remove spaces and copy): archive of our /works/692656/chapters/1273563


	28. The Fathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During winter 9:24 and spring 9:25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**9:24 Dragon   Kingsway  ===  Royal Palace, Denerim**

Cailan stalked into his father’s study.  “You said you would acknowledge him this year.”

Maric looked at his son, then closed his eyes and took a breath before answering, “No, Cailan, I said I would consider acknowledging him this year.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Next year.  I promise, next year, during the autumn Landsmeet.”

“Then let him come to Denerim until then.  He can squire with Loghain.  Or go to Highever and squire there.  In fact, why not the Spring Landsmeet?”

Maric just sat and stared at Cailan.

“Father, I know he’s getting a good education.  Probably better than mine.  He’s getting arms training.  Probably as good as mine.  But, he’s my brother.  We should know each other better.  With Fergus married and Nathaniel in the Free Marches, I have no friends any more.  I don’t care for Kendalls and Thomas Howe – I enjoy wo…wine and ale as well as the next man, but they take it too far.  It would be nice to have a brother.  Why wait?”

Maric rubbed the bridge of his nose, eyes closed.  He sat back and looked at his son.  “Cailan, you’ll have to trust me on this.  It’s necessary.”

“What’s necessary?”  Loghain walked in on the disagreement between father and son.

“Keeping Alistair locked away,” Cailan snapped.

“Ah.”

Cailan whirled on him, “Ah?  That’s all you can say, ah?  He should be here, with us, not hidden away at Dragon’s Peak where only you can visit him.”

“Cailan!”  Maric’s tone was sharp.  “That’s enough.  Loghain happens to agree with you, but it was an argument he did not win.  I am his father and King here, last I checked.  Another year, then we’ll see.”

“You just promised!  Now it’s ‘we’ll see’?”

“No,” Maric replied, wearily running a hand through his hair, “it’s a promise Cailan.  Next autumn’s Landsmeet.  Now, don’t you have arms training?”

Sullenly, Cailan nodded and strode out.

“That went well,” King Maric observed sinking into a chair by the fire.

“For a Landsmeet, yes it was relatively without incident.” 

Maric gave Loghain the sideways glance that meant he was not amused.  “That was not what I meant.”

“As you said, I’d also hoped you would acknowledge him this year.”

“It’s still too soon.”

“He’s fourteen, Maric.  I thought you would acknowledge him before he became a templar initiate.  Yet, you won’t tell me why.”

“I wish I could, but it’s not a reason I can share.  He’s acknowledged as far as the Chantry goes.  The Grand Cleric accepted his paternity when I attested to being his father and we agreed she would see him accepted at Dragon’s Peak.  The acknowledgement and agreement are in writing.  She has copies, as do I.  The Landsmeet’s approval will be something of a formality after Grand Cleric Elemena speaks and shows the proof.”  He glanced at Loghain, when he heard a sniff.  “You know this.  She will see him acknowledged.”

“She knows the reason?”

“No.”

“And you don’t think she suspects?”

Maric looked at him intently.  “Suspects what?”

“That he might have magic.”  Loghain looked at him.  “That’s the reason isn’t it?  And that his mother is a mage, a Grey Warden, and an elf.”

Maric said nothing.

“It’s taken me a long time to figure it out.  That elven warden, Fiona, is his mother.  He has her eyes.”

“So, it’s taken you fourteen years to go through every woman I might have been with… all one of them… and finally discover this?”

Loghain ignored the gibe.  “She left Alistair with you when she accompanied Duncan to the Warden outpost here.  And since they came from Highever, I’m guessing Bryce, and perhaps Eleanor know, too.”

“Yes, she left him.  And yes, Bryce and Eleanor know, but not because I told them or wanted anyone else to know.”

“Because Bryce knew, you didn’t have to tell me.  You’ve had an advisor.”

“I should have used Bryce as an advisor in this.  Sadly, I didn’t.  And you?  You and I have a shaky history with Orlesian elves.”

Loghain snorted.  “I would never have hurt-“

“-not what I meant, Loghain.  Of course, you wouldn’t hurt him…and probably not her.  I just meant it was only two years after Rowan died and you were somewhat unhappy with me after the Deep Roads-.”

“-somewhat?”

“My point exactly.  Let’s not revisit that argument.  The upshot is that Fiona became pregnant, could not, as a Grey Warden, keep him, and brought him to me.  She asked that he be raised away from court.  Provided some kind of normal life.  Maker…I did not want to give him up, but given her request and the risk of magic, keeping him away from court seemed the best thing to do. 

“If Teagan had been older and held Rainesfere, I would have chosen him, but he was still young, only nineteen, and had no lands.  Unlike Highever, Redcliffe’s remote location made it a better choice.  Eamon had not married Isolde and Teagan spent time there when not squiring  here, so it seemed a good choice.  I expected Eamon would foster the boy as he would any noble’s son, educate him, train him…clearly, he didn’t and I did not provide adequate oversight.  All the arguments around the marriage to Isolde distracted me and I didn’t visit, ask to see him or have you or Bryce oversee his care.  It didn’t occur to me I would have to, I’m afraid.  I sometimes think I’m the King, you see, and that my orders will be followed.”

Loghain snorted, but refrained from comment.

Maric continued, “Duncan promised to watch over him.  Send reports to Fiona.  He did, but apparently, his idea of adequate and mine differ.  Duncan should have alerted me, but I suppose he thought food and a dry bed were sufficient, given his own background.”

“And Bryce?  He didn’t try to check on Alistair?”

“Wisely, he said little.  I found out later they were aware he was not treated well.  I was not happy that he knew about the boy and I let him and Eleanor know it, at the time.  So, they kept their distance until Lys spoke up.  Another mistake.”

“Why did Duncan and Fiona stop in Highever?  Why not sail to Amaranthine or directly to Denerim?”

“Concocting another conspiracy?”

Loghain rubbed his forehead.  “No, Maric.  It’s just a curious route to take.  More land travel for a pregnant woman.  Justinian and Solace should have good sailing weather.”

“Fiona returned to Ferelden to birth him.  She feared the Wardens would take him away if she stayed at Weisshaupt.  When the First Warden assigned Duncan to Ferelden, she somehow got permission to accompany him.  Duncan’s family was originally from Higheverport and he knew the Couslands were friendly to wardens.  He also knew the Higheverport Alienage would have midwives and possibly mage healers to attend Fiona.  It seemed the best place to birth him.  They didn’t intend to alert the Couslands, but Fiona suffered from seasickness on an usually stormy voyage from Cumberland.  She was ill when they landed and their plans changed.

“The Cousland Guard Captain was a boyhood friend of Duncan’s.  Duncan contacted him and sought shelter at the castle barracks, until he could find a midwife and a place for Fiona to stay in the Alienage.  He knew the guards own healers would care for her until he found a place.  What he didn’t count on, not knowing Eleanor Cousland, was that the Cousland’s own mage healer would check on Fiona.  The next thing they knew, Fiona had lodgings in the castle with Eleanor’s own midwife and mage healer attending her.”  Maric gave a wry grin.  “Of all the places they could have stayed…of course Eleanor would bring them into her home and see them cared for.  She even managed to make a friend of Fiona in the process.

“Then Alistair came early.  Without the skill of the Cousland healers…well, neither he nor Fiona would have survived.  When Fiona had trouble feeding him, a wet nurse was found until she recovered.  I suspect, although she never said, that Eleanor played wet nurse.  Lys is only a few months older than Alistair.  At any rate, they stayed in the castle guest quarters until early Harvestmere.”

Loghain chuckled.  _So Lys and Alistair were milk siblings._

“You find all this amusing?”

“No, just thinking of how much Eleanor and Lys are alike.  I understand better why they feel so strongly about him.  It’s sad really.”  He stood and paced behind the chairs facing the hearth.  “Maker, Maric, why didn’t you just send the baby back to Highever?  The Cousland’s could have claimed the mother died after she left and Duncan brought the child back.  You could have asked them to foster him out, not keep him at the castle.  Highever is friendly to mages.  Or was that the problem?  I suppose you decided Redcliffe was closer to the Circle of Magi?  That he could be quickly and quietly taken there by boat if he manifested magic?”

“That was a benefit, yes, and it’s more remote.  He wouldn’t be noticed in Redcliffe.  Most of all, however, I misjudged Eamon.  I expected him to be like his father and Rowan.  Arl Rendorn could be a hard man, but he would have taken his duty seriously.  He would have fostered Alistair as a noble. 

“As we now know, Eamon is not like his father.  Isolde made it worse, but Eamon never treated Alistair well.  You’re right, in hindsight, I should have sent him to Highever.”  Maric sighed.  “I never had a father, or a home; I suppose I didn’t think it would matter.  For him or for Cailan.  Particularly after Rowan died.  It just seemed there were so many others who could do better.”

“Nothing replaces a father, Maric.  I could have told you that, had you asked.  I suspect Bryce would have told you the same.  For all your chatter, you spend too much time thinking and not enough seeking advice and listening.”

Maric cocked his head.

“Thinking about the wrong things.  I think about strategic things, not feelings.  And I do ask questions…and sometimes listen.”

“Right.  And that’s worked so well for you.”

“So say it.  I was no better as a father and I had a superb example of both mother and father.  I abandoned my wife and daughter in Gwaren to come to Denerim.  Anora has never forgiven me for it.”

“Or me.”

“I wasn’t sure it was that obvious.”

“It’s not.  I’m just unusually perceptive.”  Maric smirked.

Loghain chuckled in spite of himself.  

“So, we’ll stipulate: we’re both terrible fathers.  We should have sent Alistair, Anora and Cailan to Highever as children and not retrieved them until they turned twenty.”

Maric laughed, “Perhaps we should have.  They are good parents aren’t they?  Fergus and Lys are not easy children to raise, nor are they perfect, but they’re…I don’t know, balanced?  Cailan is all charm and bravado and Anora all intelligence and ambition.  I’m hoping between them they complement each other and rule well together.”

“Alistair, for all Eamon’s faults, has more, as you term it, ‘balance.’ ”  Loghain sighed, “Developed, I suppose, as a result of living a harsh reality. I hope the Chantry instills more confidence in him, although I’m not sure the templars try to develop thoughtful, confident leaders.  I’m afraid they look more for pious, unthinking followers.  I place more hope in the brothers at the Boys School.” 

“I think you can take some credit as well, my friend.  From what Anora says Alistair respects and cares about you.”  Maric smiled.  “And I thank you for watching over him so well.  I should have entrusted him to you and Bryce much sooner.”

“He’s a fine boy Maric.  I’d be proud to call him son, but I am not his father.”  Loghain stretched his long legs as he sat and gazed thought fully into the fire.  “I should have brought Anora to Denerim sooner, as you should Alistair, but, “  he held up his hand, “I won’t pursue that argument any further.  You know my opinion.  I think your throne quite secure enough to weather any repercussions.”  Loghain rubbed his forehead.  “I tried to get Celia to come to Denerim, you know… during the winters actually, since it’s not as harsh here.  In Gwaren, her home, she ruled with confidence as Teyrna.  Leaving Gwaren terrified her.  She wouldn’t do it; I wouldn’t bring Anora without her mother, even though Anora asked me to.”

“What frightened her?  She was lovely, a natural lady.  Rowan and Eleanor would have closed ranks behind her and no one would have said a word.”

“Celia believed all the nobles would scorn her, if not to her face then behind her back.  She heard the comments about me.  The complaints about you raising me from a common farmer or worse to Teyrn.  She believed similar comments about artisans daughters being raised above their station would follow.  What was a point of pride in Gwaren would be a point for ridicule elsewhere.  The rest of Ferelden already looks down on anyone from Gwaren as rough and unpolished.  She simply didn’t want to face it. 

“Eleanor wrote to Celia, inviting her to stay with them at Highever House until she acclimated to the city and the nobility.  Or, if Anora came alone, Eleanor invited her to stay with them instead of at Gwaren House.  Celia refused.  If she had met Eleanor, I’m sure they would have gotten along, over gardening if nothing else.  Celia could be stubborn.  Anora comes by her determination and stubbornness honestly.”

“Nor is it all from Celia.”  Maric hesitated, then added, “Celia’s refusal to come to Denerim always surprised Rowan.  She hoped to befriend her.  When Celia stayed away, she came to believe she was aware of our… complicated relationships.”

Loghain snorted.  “How she knew, I don’t know.  We never spoke of it.  Rumors around Gwaren I suppose, but she was quite aware.  Celia always knew the rumors and undercurrents of Gwaren society.  She had some sixth sense, which Anora inherited from her.  Anora doesn’t get her political acumen from me.”

Maric grinned.  “That much goes without saying.”

Ignoring the remark, as he often did, Loghain continued,  “Even though I stayed with her in Gwaren while Rowan was alive, she could never stop thinking she was only a duty for me.  I came to care for her, love her, but she never quite believed it.  We had good years just before and after Anora was born, then we lost the baby boy and it was never the same.  She thought she failed and let the guilt eat at her.  I couldn’t convince her that we had enough, just the three of us.  I thought after Rowan died…but, no, she still refused to leave Gwaren.  I don’t think she told Anora why, but, of course, Anora picked right up on it.  Anora may believe I didn’t love Celia.”

“Have you talked with her?”

Loghain stared at him.

“I’ll assume that’s a no.  You should, Loghain.”

Loghain shook his head.  “Eleanor did help Anora when she finally came to town after Celia died.  Anora would stay with them at Highever House and visit Castle Cousland frequently.  Then, after a few years, she pulled away.  She and Eleanor remain close, but she no longer would stay with the Couslands.  Said she must establish herself as Lady Anora Mac Tir, not Eleanor’s protégé.  I suspect there’s something more to it, but she’s never admitted it.

“Her connection with Eleanor, however, is genuine.  She seems to like Oriana.  I just wished she liked Lys as well…and wasn’t so close to Delilah Howe.”

“And to Rendon?”

“She doesn’t talk about him.  She knows I dislike the man.  I think they’re still closer than I’d like.  She visits Amaranthine House and Vigil’s Keep, more often than I like, when he’s in residence.”

“I suspect in some ways, Lys and Anora are too much alike,” Maric mused.  “In addition, Lys has that damn Cousland self-assurance.  It’s not entitlement, arrogance, or superiority, although I imagine some take it as that; it’s a sense that we all have a right to be here.  She will respect you and she expects you to reciprocate.”

Loghain looked at Maric.  He had joked about it, but sometimes he could be incredibly perceptive.  Loghain would be loath to concede that out loud, of course.  “Anora does not have that, at least not outside of Gwaren.  She tends to be mistrustful.”

Maric raised his eyebrows.

“She feels she has to fight or compete for everything she has.”

“Where could she have gotten that attitude?”  Maric  smiled.

Loghain rolled his eyes.  “Right, where indeed.  I should have insisted she come to Denerim, insisted she come along on some of my travels.  I gave in to her too easily.  She took it as me not caring.  Anora always saw an ulterior motive, even when one wasn’t there.”

Maric raised an eyebrow, still smiling.

“Right, that’s from me as well – an Orlesian conspiracy behind every bush, not,” he added glowering at Maric, ”that there isn’t, of course.  Why only last week my informers told-”

“-Maker, Loghain, can’t we converse without discussion Orlesians?”

“We can try, Your Majesty.”  He got up and poured two brandies.  “I’ll wait and report on the Fereldan-Orlesian Societies another time.”

Maric chuckled, “Thank the Maker for small favors.”

He sipped the brandy Loghain had handed him.  “Well, as we’ve said, I was no better with Cailan.  I left him to you and his nurses after Rowan died.  We all let him think life was like some myth or story.  He insists that he understands it’s not, but then he talks of glorious battles and wanders off to the Grey Warden barracks to spar and listen to tales of Garahel and griffons.  He’s so confident that what he thinks is what will happen.  I’ve told him we must change the Theirin motto to: _I think therefore it will be.’_ “

Loghain snorted.  “Well, the Wardens are worthy sparring partners, I’ll give them that, but their tales are the last thing Cailan needs.  You should keep him away.  More than half of them are Orlesian, almost none are Fereldan, and don’t glare at me.  They need to be watched.  I know you claim Duncan is Fereldan and Rivaini, but I still don’t trust him.  Tell me, why does he seem to report to Orlais and not directly to Weisshaupt?  Isn’t Weisshaupt their headquarters?  Each country’s wardens are an independent organization aren’t they?  Why does Weisshaupt appear to consider the Fereldan wardens and extension of those of Orlais?”  
  
Maric sighed.  “You have a point.  I have raised it with them.  They’re a very secretive Order.  I can only say so much.  Duncan is Warden Commander because he is Ferelden.  Unfortunately, he has trouble disengaging from his former superiors in Orlais.  He looks to them for guidance.  Weisshaupt is far away.  It’s not perfect, but he is trying, Loghain.  It will improve.  I just need to keep working with him.  Perhaps I should convince them to let you join some of our discussions as Fereldan’s General.”

“Would that help?  Even if he cuts off ties with Orlais, he’s just not a good leader.  If it’s so important to have Wardens, why aren’t there more?  And why aren’t they Fereldan?  And why won’t he talk with me about coordinating these patrols he sends into the Wilds with the Royal Guard?  The Wardens in Orlais are practically part of their military.  It may be the only Orlesian custom we should imitate; and it’s the only one he doesn’t.  We should join them, if only to insure we know what this Duncan is up to.  Perhaps some coordination would spark interest in his Order.  If there is a darkspawn threat, he certainly makes no effort to prepare for it.”

“I agree.  I’ve asked him why so few Fereldans.  He claims Fereldans lack interest in the Order.  He is reluctant to conscript.  I can’t disagree with that.  I’ve tried to encourage the Bannorn to offer volunteers, but…he’s right there’s a lack of interest.  It’s not the honorable choice here, as it is in many other parts of Thedas.  Fereldan third sons and daughters don’t rush to join.  It’s a result of the two hundred year exile, of course.  But think, the Chantry catches templars early, at fourteen or younger; the Wardens wait and giving up hearth, home, family, children – it’s not appealing to eighteen and twenty year olds.  Most of his ‘volunteers’ are criminals.  The wardens or prison, that’s an easy choice.”

“Then let’s do joint patrolling.  What better way to get trained troops interested?  And keep Cailan away.  He’d be foolish enough to volunteer just to spite us in a fit of anger!” 

Maric flinched at that suggestion, knowing it held a seed of truth.  “As for Cailan, I’ve limited the time he can spend there.  I spoke with Duncan and asked for fewer tales and more training.  He’ll just sneak out if I ban him from the Warden compound, completely.  I’ve found he needs more careful handling.  Nudges work better than direct orders.  Fergus taught me that.  He manages Cailan wonderfully.”

Loghain raised an eyebrow.  “Right, Fergus.  Like father, like son?  We’re lucky to have Bryce.  He manages us pretty well.”

“Your words.  I never managed you well.  We settle our differences through argument I believe.  At high volume.  Rowan handled you far better than I do.”

Loghain shook his head.  “Rowan did everything far better than either of us.  So you have guards with Cailan, can’t they keep him away from the Warden Compound?”

Maric chuckled, “He’d just sneak off through a secret passage.  There’s probably one going directly to the Compound.  Cailan knows every passage in this palace I think and he won’t reveal most of them to anyone.  He drives the Guard mad.”

“Don’t you know them?”

Maric eyes narrowed.  “Not all of them.  As you might recall, I didn’t grow up here.  I’ve used a few to escape your notice on occasion.”

“So, rumors of your double drinking at the Sour Sojourner were true _?”  I know more of them then you think, Maric, but it seems we need do more to discover the rest.  That one to the Warden’s compound, for example._

Maric smirked.  “I suppose you’ll have to ask my double, should you find him.  Not to change the subject, but…when is your next visit to Dragon’s Peak?”

“I thought perhaps before Satinalia.  Since you prodded Grand Cleric Elemena to encourage Revered Mother Hilda to agree to ease the restrictions further, we’ve been riding out.  He’s enjoyed it.  I’m hoping for decent weather, so we can ride again.”  Loghain sat quietly for some time.  “Perhaps you and Cailan could ride up to Dragon’s Peak from the city.  He’d enjoy seeing Cailan.”

Maric stared into the fire for a long time.  Finally, he replied,  “No, let’s leave it until I acknowledge him.  If anyone finds out or sees us…it’s not worth the problems it could cause.  If Fergus were in town, he and Cailan…but he’s not.  I attract far too much attention.” 

The two men sat in companionable silence, sipping the brandy, for a long time.

“Tell him I will keep my promise, Loghain.  Tell him I told you to tell him.  He must wonder.  I would.”

**9** **:25 Dragon   Guardian  ===  Dragon’s Peak**

“You’ve been very quiet, Alistair,” Loghain said as they finished their supper at the Dragon’s Rest.   

Alistair had been staring into the fire, but turned to face the Teyrn.  “Why do you visit me?”

Loghain thought for a moment.  “I enjoy it.  I enjoy your company.  I love Anora, but I would have enjoyed having a son.  You’re as close to a son as I’ll have.  And, to be honest, guilt.  I should have been able to think of a better way, a better place for you, but I couldn’t.  I want to make sure this is at least as good as it can be for you.  In short, I care about you, I enjoy being with you and I want to keep you safe and content, if not happy.”

“You don’t visit because the king tells you to?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“A trick?  No!  Why?”

“Well, if Maric ordered me to visit every month, it would indicate to you that your father was interested in you, but that I may not care.  If it’s just me visiting, than maybe Maric doesn’t care, even if I do.”

“No.  I mean, I’d like to think he cares, but it’s pretty clear he doesn’t.  I gave up on that hope a long time ago.  I just wondered why you visit and spend so much time with me.  You could just get reports.”

“Didn’t I just answer that question?”

Alistair’s head was bowed.  He smiled and looked up through his eyelashes.  He looked so much like Maric it took Loghain’s breath away.  “You like me.  I…well I guess I wanted to hear that.”

“He does ask me about you every time I visit, Alistair.  I don’t do this in secret.  He and Cailan both ask about you.  Lys isn’t the only one who misses you.  I wasn’t joking when I said I provide detailed reports.”

“Cailan does?”

“He and Maric have had some…discussions about you.  Cailan would like his brother to join him.”

Alistair smiled.  “So would I.”  He frowned.  “Isn’t Cailan something like a son to you?”

“No.  I wish he was, but, no.  Cailan and I…we disagree a lot.  I am, as perhaps you’ve noticed, very practical.  I don’t tolerate nonsense.  Cailan…he’s a bit spoiled.  He looks for…not just the good, but the glory in every effort.  He lacks substance, in my opinion.  It’s not all his fault.  He was raised on stories and myths, instead of history and reality, but he’s drawn to it as well.”

“I like stories.”

“Yes, but you see the truth in them.  The pain, the horror, not just the victories and the glory.  You made a comment about how you never want to fight a war, even though playing at it is fun.  Cailan would only see the fun, the glory, and want to fight the real battle, not understanding the costs.”

“But you’re the Hero of River Dane and King Maric is the Savior.  Isn’t that glorious?”

“No!  Think, Alistair.  How many died to let us win the Rebellion?  You know I hate the Hero title.  Maric hates being called the Savior.  We can’t stop it, we can just…Maric says we should gracefully ignore it.  That we need to allow the people to be grateful for our leadership, because we did lead Ferelden to victory.  I say to the Void with it, but,” he grinned.  “I bow to my king.”

“So Cailan and I wouldn’t get along?”

“You would, Alistair.  You might even help him see reality.  Fergus does sometimes.  He’s good at nudging Cailan, not trying to lead him.  I think you would be too.  You’re very good with people, Alistair.  As is your father, except where Cailan is concerned.  Maric would admit this.  And Anora, well Cailan is no longer blindly obedient to my daughter’s commands.  He tends to react and do the opposite.  Yet she continues to issue them.”  He snorted.  “As do I, unfortunately, I can’t seem to remember to nudge once faced with his recalcitrance.”

“Thank you, Teyrn Loghain.”

“For?”

“Answering my question.  It was somewhat impudent.”

Loghain laughed.  “Alistair, ask me anything.  Questions are good.  I may not have the answer.  Or I may not be able to answer.  I promise, I will always be honest with you. 

**9:24 Dragon   Haring ===  Castle Cousland, Highever**

Lys strode away from the practice yard mumbling to herself.  “Just once, I’d like to do something right.  I have plenty of time to dress for supper.  I don’t need to be told to go to my room like a ten year old.”  She brushed angry tears from her cheeks.

“Da unhappy again?”

“Shut up, Fergus.”

“Hey, I’m trying to be sympathetic here.  I heard him.  He’s getting more unreasonable all the time.  You should ask Mum to talk to him.”

“I did.  She has.  You can see the result.  I’m just a disappointment.  I won’t entertain suitors.  I insist on training every day with the Arms Master.  I go to Nevarra to learn to be a merchant banker.  I’m just…I don’t even know what I am any more, Fergus.  Certainly not a Cousland.”  She sniffed.  “I should go and live with Aunt Liv.  That would solve everyone’s problems.  He can declare me dead.”

“Lyssie!”

“What!”  She sighed.  “He didn’t do this to you.  I mean I know you had your moments, but he didn’t criticize everything about you.  I wear a dress Mum thinks is lovely and he tells me it’s too elegant for me.  Too elegant?  So the dress is fine, I’m the problem?”

“He still thinks of you as a little girl.  He’s having a hard time seeing you grow up, Lys.”

“Really?  He treated me with less disdain when I was ten.  He’s more restrictive now than he’s ever been.  Fergus, yesterday he stopped me as I left to ride to Star Lake with Pippa.  No reason, just no you can’t go.  You should have asked first.  I’ve gone scores of times.  I let Mum know I was going, but it was not good enough.  I didn’t tell _him_.  I’m so tired of being unacceptable.  I don’t even want to get out of bed in the morning.”

“You should tell him that – what you just told me.  I don’t think he realizes how hard he is on you.”

She stared at him, brow furrowed.  “He’d have to listen, Ferg.  He doesn’t listen to what I say anymore.  I miss talking to him.”

“Melysande Elayne!”  Her father’s angry voice carried across the baily.

She gave Fergus a desperate look as tears started to flow again.  “I need to go.”  She took off at a run for her rooms.

Teyrn Bryce joined his son.  “I told her to go get ready and she stops to chat with you.”

“Da, I stopped her because she was crying.  I wanted to make sure she was alright after your tongue lashing.”

“Tongue lashing.  It’s a tongue lashing to tell her to go get ready for our guests?”

“Tongue lashing, Da.  She’s fourteen.  She can manage her time.  She has Kai now to help her dress.  When was the last time she was late for anything?  Or showed up in something inappropriate?  She always looks lovely as far as I can tell.  I’m no expert, but Oriana thinks so and she is.  Mum too.”

Bryce looked at his son.  “She was crying?”

“She thinks you disapprove of everything she does.  She feels unacceptable.  You’re too hard on her.”

“Your mother says that as well.”

“Then maybe you should listen.  Oriana has said the same to me.”

“She’s still a child.”

“No, Da, she’s not.  As she pointed out to me, you gave her more discretion over her own time when she was a child.  Did you really tell her she couldn’t ride to Star Lake with Pippa, Kai and Myfa ?  A ride she’s taken scores of times?”

“Her mother let me hear about that,” Teyrn Bryce mumbled.  “I don’t know what gets into me, sometimes.  I worry about her.  I want her to be happy and I don’t see that happening.”

“Let her make her choices, Da.  She cares about Alistair.  It’s not clear what King Maric will do.  Let he follow her heart for a while.  You let me.”

“I know, but your suit in Antiva wasn’t hopeless.  This Alistair thing probably is.”

“Let her learn that.”

“When did you get so wise?”

“When I married Oriana,” Fergus laughed.  “She cares about Lys as she would a sister, Da.”

Teyrn Bryce chuckled, “So, you’re telling me we should listen to our wives?”

“Yep.”

“Smart boy.  I should know that by now.”

“You need to talk to her, Da.  Actually, you need to listen to her.  She says you don’t anymore.”

“I suppose she’s right.  Maker, I still see her bouncing across the yard on Arrow her hair pulled back in that braid she always wore.”

“She’s a lovely young woman, Da.  Try to see her as she is now.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“Lys, can you join me in my study?”

She blanched.

“Nothing bad, Lys, I just want to talk with you.”

“Right.”

He stood in front of the small hearth opposite his worktable as Lys followed him into the study.  She stood behind a chair, which  flanked the hearth.  Teyrn Bryce looked at her. _Maker she thinks she needs to shield herself from me._   He turned toward the fire; his back was to her as he spoke.

“I need to apologize to you.  I’ve been unfair.  I am extremely proud of you, Lys.  Your dedication, persistence, compassion…I could go on, are amazing.  I need to understand that you’ve grown up and treat you as a young woman should be treated.  I’m sorry, I haven’t done so lately.”

“Papa…I try to please you.”

He turned to face her.  “Lyssie, you always please me, I just don’t want my little girl to grow up.”

She brushed away a tear.  “I’ll always be your little girl, Papa.  I just need to be an older little girl.”  She chuckled.  “Did that even make sense?”

He walked over and drew her into an embrace.  “Perfect sense, sweetheart.”  He stepped back and put his finger under her chin raising her head to face him.  “Lys, I may not always agree with you, but I promise to listen to what you have to say and think about your argument.  I haven’t done that.  Your Mum keeps pointing that out to me, and Fergus did today as well.  I’m sorry.”

“That’s all I ask, Papa.  You always used to listen to me.  I miss talking to you.”

“I miss you too, sweetling.”  He kissed her brow.  “Let’s try to do better.  I’ll try to do better.  I’m not sure you’ve done anything to create this problem.”

“I grew up.”

“Yes, well that happens Lys, I shouldn’t punish you for that.”

“So I can keep to my plans with Cousin Samuel?”

“You can.  Working for House Haris isn’t what I hoped for you, but if it’s what you want.  I hope you will find someone to care about, Lys.  Someone who will love you.  Either Alistair or someone else, but regardless, you will still be Bann of Long’s Reach and you can serve Highever and Ferelden by working with Cousin Samuel, as you mother has.”

She smiled.  “Good.  I want to be useful, Papa, like Mum and Aunt Alys are.”  She hugged him, arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

“I missed your hugs, Papa.”

“And I missed yours, pup.”

Lys wrinkled her nose, “So, if we make up will you call me pup again?”

Bryce laughed, “It seems it’s the only reminder of your childhood I’ll get, so yes, but I’ll try to keep it our private pet name.”

“I suppose I can tolerate that,” Lys laughed, “but only if I get to wear that dress you termed too ‘elegant’.  I think I’m old enough to be elegant.”

Bryce laughed.  “Maker, you negotiate better than your mother.  Yes, you can wear the dress for Firstday.  I think my grown up daughter should look elegant, just like her mother, but I’ll still call you pup.”

“Then I demand the second dance with you, Papa, after you dance with Mum.”

“Done.”

Lys and Bryce left the study and walked toward the solar arm in arm.  Lys feeling better about her life than she had in quite some time.

**9:25 Dragon  Drakonis  ===  Gwaren House, Denerim**

“Anora?  I didn’t expect to see you here for dinner tonight.  Do you plan to stay?”

“I wanted to check on the gardens, father.  You always forget.  I thought I’d have dinner with you; then see the head gardener in the morning.”

“Is something happening at the palace you want to avoid?”

“No.  Nothing is happening at the palace.  King Maric, as you well know, is away.  Cailan keeps busy with his other interests.”

“Other interests?”

“He’s out with Vaughan Kendalls and Thomas Howe some nights.  Tonight, he’s out with Bann Teagan.”

“I didn’t know Teagan was in town.”

“He never left.  He’s been here since the Landsmeet.  Well, in the area.  Cailan said he stayed with Bann Sighard at Dragon’s Peak for a week.  He and Cailan are discussing the royal stable and kennel.  Teagan believes they need some improvement.  He does have fine stables at Rainesfere.  Kennels too, according to Cailan.  Next thing I know, Cailan will have a mabari.”  She smiled.  “I shouldn’t complain.  Teagan is a much better influence than Howe and Kendalls.”

Loghain raised an eyebrow.

“With them he just comes in drunk every night.”

“Well, I hope that’s all.  Those two have quite a nasty reputation.”

“I’ve heard a few things.  I don’t think Cailan really likes them, they’re just the only ones around.  I suspect King Maric asked Teagan to stay.”  She gave her father a quizzical look.  “Did he?”

Loghain threw up his hands, “Anora, I don’t know.  It sounds like something Maric would do.  Cailan gets along with Teagan.”

“Father, I care about him, you know.  I think he cares about me, but sometimes he seems so young.  Was Maric that way?”

“No, no not even at eighteen.  Maric was naïve, too trusting, too fearful of doing the hard thing, but no, he never sought glory or believed he was the hero in a story.  Chattered enough to drown out thought on occasion, but Maric was never completely foolish.  He had a hard childhood, though; it tempers one.  We both saw our mothers cut down in front of us.  He never knew his father.  I saw mine die defending us.  These are things I would never wish on you or Cailan, but they do toughen you.  You know that.  Cailan barely remembers Rowan, but you suffered through Celia’s illness and death.  It made you stronger.”

Anora walked over to the window overlooking the gardens.  “She loved you, you know.”

“And I loved her, Anora.  We just lost our way after the babe’s stillbirth.  You must remember some good times before that.  You were six when it happened.”

“I remember.  I didn’t understand why it changed everything.  Just that it did.”

“You mother never really recovered.  She thought she failed me, not giving me a son.  I could never convince her you and she were more than enough.”

Anora turned to stare at him, “Were we really?”

Loghain crossed the room in four strides and put his arms around Anora.  “Always, enough.  Celia just couldn’t believe it.”

Anora buried her head in his shoulder.  “I was never sure.”

“Be sure, Anora.  I loved your mother and I love you.  If we had had a son, we all would have loved him, but we didn’t.  It saddened me, but I never blamed your mother.  She did that to herself.”

He stepped back, tipping her face up to look at him.

“Anora, I tried to convince your mother to come to Denerim.  Eleanor wrote and invited her to stay at Highever House.  Celia feared leaving Gwaren.  Her strength lay in her love of her home.  She thought being Teyrna of Gwaren meant staying in Gwaren.  My love, after you and Celia, was and is Ferelden.  You mother couldn’t understand that.  Or the bond I have with Maric.”

“I don’t understand the bond you have with Maric.” She smiled ruefully.  “I know you share the war and the rebellion, but it’s more than that.”

“I suppose.  We were young when we met.  And yes, we shared the war.  He’s like a brother to me.  It’s that deep.  Bryce Cousland is a friend.  Maric, Maker, if Maric he wanted to conquer the Void, I would lead the charge, Anora.”

Anora stepped back, then turned to look out the window again.  Two elves turned over the soil in a bed as she watched, the wind blowing a few leaves and swirling them along a graveled path.  Lilacs bloomed along the wall.  Peonies stood a few feet tall with buds still tight.  Tulips, bordering the path, bobbed in the wind.  Two apple trees in the corners of the garden shed blossoms, which covered the ground beneath like snow _.  Spring in Ferelden, the most ephemeral of seasons.  One afternoon storm off the Amaranthine Ocean and the beauty dissipates with the wind_.

“That’s hard to compete with father.”

“Does it have to be a competition?  I’m afraid that’s how your mother saw it too.”

“No, I suppose not.”

Loghain put his arm around her shoulder and she leaned into him a bit.  “Eleanor Cousland once told me that love is not limited.  There is always more.  It’s a self-replenishing pool.”

Anora smiled.  “That sounds like Eleanor.”

“I’m glad you let her befriend you.  I wish Celia had as well.”

“I agree, Father.  I think mother would have liked her.  Maybe she would have convinced mother to have a mage healer.”

“Yes, well, Celia had strong beliefs.”

“I know you tried, father.  Eleanor told me Mother refused her offer of Nyla’s services.”

“I didn’t know you knew that.  I’m glad you do, although it did no good.”

They walked into the small dining room and seated themselves at the table.

“I heard that conversation.  You offered to bring the Cousland’s healer to Gwaren.  She said no.  Could the mage healer have saved her?”

“We’ll never know, Anora.  I believed there was a chance.  Eleanor had several miscarriages you know, before Lys was born.  The babes died, but she did not.”

“I should remember that.  I think I’ll want a court mage healer.”

“Not a bad thought.”

“I should begin to prepare the Chantry now.  Perhaps I’ll speak to Eleanor and her healer when we go to Highever.”

Loghain looked confused.  “When are we going to Highever?”

“For Summerday.  Ah, didn’t King Maric tell you.  We’re all going for Summerday this year.”

“Good.  Perhaps you’ll give Lys a chance to show you some of her favorite places.”

“Father, I will have plenty to keep me busy with Eleanor and Oriana.  I won’t need to play with a child.”

“She’s fifteen, Anora, a young woman.  You might enjoy her company if you would give her a chance.”  He held up both hands.  “I’ll say no more.  Let’s agree to disagree.”

Anora sipped her wine.  “We’ll see father.  She does present herself well when her mother holds salons and teas here in Denerim.  And Eleanor says she has an interest in gardens and plants.”  She shook her head, as if to clear it, and frowned.  “Now, about the gardens….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. As a new author, I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.
> 
> Huge thanks to Kira Tamarion for her beta efforts. She provides encouragement and insightful comments every week. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine. I’ll add, if you haven’t read Kira’s stories, you should.
> 
> I’d also like to thank the group of amazing writers who have reviewed Bright Shining Moments. It’s humbling and exciting to have authors, whose wonderful stories I’ve followed and loved, think my tale is worth a read. If you haven’t read their stories, I strongly recommend that you do. They each provide different viewpoints and emphasis and they all tell beautiful tales of Thedas and the Dragon Age characters we love.
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and those who Reviewed this week: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, KatDancer2, maradeux, EasternViolet and SnowHelm (who complimented me with a marathon read of Lys and Ali’s story). Thanks for the continuing thoughtful feedback. It helps me keep going, knowing others enjoy Lys, Alistair, Loghain, Anora and the company too.
> 
> There are appendices with background assumptions on timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. in AO3. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure (remove spaces and copy): archive of our /works/692656/chapters/1273563


	29. Wardens and Templars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:25 Dragon Drakonis at Dragon's Peak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 29 - WARDENS AND TEMPLARS**

 

* * *

**9** **:25 Dragon   Drakonis  ===  Dragon’s Peak**

Loghain delivered Lys’ next letter in Guardian when he returned to Dragon’s Peak after the Spring Landsmeet.  He had hoped to bring Lys and Teyrna Eleanor with him, but Anora had not succeeded in getting permission from Revered Mother Hilda.  When Loghain had mentioned it to King Maric, he was surprised, but shrugged _._

_“It won’t be much longer Loghain.  Let’s not agitate the Chantry right now.  If they won’t accede to Anora’s requests, I could make demands, but I’d rather not.”_

_“We just wait for the Autumn Landsmeet?”_

_“Yes.  I’m not going to annoy the Grand Cleric now about small requests.”_

_Maric received a glare, which he had no problem ignoring._

_“I need her at the Landsmeet.  I don’t want to create problems before then.”  He studied Loghain.  “Don’t sneak them in, Loghain.  We’ve all played by the rules until now, with Anora’s help.  It’s only a few months.”_

_Loghain nodded, reluctantly._

As had become his habit, Alistair saved Lys’ letter to read before he went to sleep.  Whether in his monastery cubicle or in Loghain’s apartment at the Dragon’s Rest, he preferred to read Lys’ letters in privacy.

**_9:25 Dragon   9 Guardian_ **

_Dear Alistair,_

_I feel shy writing after such a long break.  I’m not sure what to write.  Your last letter it was…short.  It sounded like you and Loghain had some good rides to Dragon’s Peak.  He enjoyed them.  I hope you’ll go with him again.  It should be spring now, even so far south.  I wish I could join you.  Or meet you on the peak or….well, no sense wishing is there?_

_I spent a long time in Nevarra, which is why I sent no letters in the winter.  I left from Denerim after the Autumn Landsmeet and didn’t return to Highever until just before Firstday.  I missed winter.  This was sad and nice at the same time.  I enjoy the Coastlands wild winter weather, but it’s so much warmer in Cumberland, where House Haris has a large compound, and even nicer farther north where the Haris Manor is located, south of Nevarra City._

_For those first weeks of my stay, Cousin Samuel and I remained in Cumberland, at the Haris Compound.  It’s quite large and shaped like a ‘U’ around a walled courtyard with plantings, a fountain and statuary.  One wing provides private living quarters.  The central part of the building has a large hall for entertaining and, on an upper floor, joins the living quarters to the other wing, which provides offices for the business.  The Haris compound is the largest merchant banking compound in Cumberland.  Many other merchant houses have similar ones in the same sector of the city, which is between the port area and the noble district to the north.  Beautiful public squares with fountains and statuary interrupt the main thoroughfares through the city .  The necropolis, in case you wondered, lay farther north and west just outside of the city.  To the northeast, the Cumberland College of Magi tower rises, golden, against a backdrop of the coastal mountains.  It’s quite beautiful._

_During my stay in Cumberland, we met with other merchants.  I observed and took notes at all the meetings.  Then I reviewed the notes and discussed the meetings with Cousin Samuel and he critiqued my notes and observations  He’s very kind, but lets me know my errors.  The whole experience was quite interesting.  Talking with him or watching one of our other principals negotiate and get the best deal for the House taught me a lot._

_Mum and Papa arrived with the Broughtens in Harvestmere.  We spent Satinalia at the Haris Compound in the city.  I actually helped Cousin Samuel host several feast week parties for merchants and customers.  I had a completely new wardrobe for the occasions and new masks.  I won’t bore you with the details, but Kai and I had a wonderful time dressing me up._

_Oh yes, Kai.  Kailian Tabris is my lady’s maid.  Yes, I now have a lady’s maid.  I can hear you snickering and objecting ‘but Lys you’re not a lady’.  But I am, now; I’ve grown up too.  Kai does my hair beautifully, but that’s not the good part.  The good part is that she also wields dual blades and shoots as well as I do.  She can ride too.  So most of time, when I don’t need a lady’s maid, she’s my friend (and partner in dastardly deeds and poltroonish pranks – maybe I’m not a lady, now I think about it).  How she became my maid is a long story, which I’ll tell you another time.  I’ll just say she’s an elf from the Denerim Alienage and had a hard life until she came to work for us.  I am so lucky to have found her.  You two would like each other I think._

_Back to Cumberland - I thought I would hate wearing masks all the time, but I didn’t.  A mask can be oddly liberating.  It’s so much easier to hide what you’re thinking and feeling with your face hidden.  That benefits me when I negotiate with another merchant.  Of course, it benefits the other person too, who also wears a mask, but Cousin Samuel is teaching me how to read their body movements…or lack of them.  It’s quite fascinating and difficult to describe.  Although, you’ll understand this, it’s like watching a helmeted sparring opponent; you cannot see their face, yet you have to try to read what they’ll do next.  Maybe that’s why I don’t find it difficult to do.”_

_Mum understood the honor Cousin Samuel offered by having me as his hostess, but Papa was not happy.  He disapproved of my ‘merchant activities,’ as he called them.  He didn’t approve of me formally apprenticing with Cousin Samuel either, although Mum did convince him to let me stay through most of Haring.  Papa seemed to disapprove of everything I did during his visit.  He hated my new clothes, even though Mum helped me select them.  Mum says he just doesn’t want me to grow up, and that he’ll get over it.  And of course, she was right, as he has, mostly._

_Papa and I had a long talk after I came home in Haring and we get along much better now.  I’m much happier.  I missed my Papa.  I know it sounds silly, but…well I suppose you’re the last person I should complain to, Ali.  I’m sorry.  I still don’t think sometimes.  Let’s just say it’s fixed now._

_After Satinalia, we all went to the Manor.  It’s so beautiful there, but I missed the ocean.  Of course, it’s very private, so unless there are customers or other merchants or bankers visiting, we don’t wear masks.  We went to visit the mines in the Blasted Hills, as Papa wanted to see the operation and compare it to our mines in Highever.  It’s quite a long journey from the Manor.  From Nevarra City, we traveled west to Hunter Fell and Perendale.  I wanted to see Andoral’s Reach, which is quite deserted and a ruin, but it proved too far out of our way.  From, Perendale, we went northwest to the Blasted Hill mines.  The Blasted Hills are only hills because of the Hunterhorn Mountains towering behind them.  The Hills rise as high as our Coast Range, but the Hunterhorns dwarf them.  They rise into the clouds, their highest peaks always shrouded and snow covered.  House Haris invested in the Blasted Hill mines years ago, when they were Orlesian.  Now the lands are Nevarran, so we’ve been able to increase our shares._

_A large guard contingent from Hrothgar’s Wrath escorted our party, as the lands used to belong to Orlais and there are still occasional raids.  I rode with the Wrath most of the way.  I rode in full armor, ready for battle, every day.  Tiring, but exciting.  The Captain ran it as if it were wartime.  He sent out scouts and let me go along with a scouting party.  I demonstrated my mounted archery for them again; several of the Wrath tried it and let me help them train.  They will set up a mounted archery unit.  I’m rather proud that they find it useful.  We have a mounted archery unit in the Highever Guard of course.  Fergus has even gotten passable at it and I’m teaching Kai._

_Once he calmed down, Papa agreed it was good experience for me.  He wasn’t happy when I went along, but Mum came too, so he couldn’t say no and, as I said, it’s all fine now._

_Once we got to the mines, we set up camp.  There is no real town, just a collection of barracks for the miners and some shops providing needed services.  The mines spread out from the town; the farthest ones have their own barracks.  In Highever, most miners come from existing villages, but here the land was too sparsely settled.  Most of the miners come from elsewhere in Thedas and are men, although there are a few women.  In the settlement there are offices, a blacksmith, a hostel for the mining experts, a brothel (shush – I’m not supposed to know that), various artisans and merchants selling other goods the miners might need._

_On the edge of the settlement, there are cabins where miners with families live.  It’s not officially permitted, but many build houses for wives and children.  The wives often find work as laundresses or other jobs.  I was not allowed to wander about on my own, of course, but I managed to convince Mum and Papa that an escort from the Wrath would keep Kai and me safe.  We got to see a lot._

_Some of the mining experts here are dwarves!  We have a few dwarves in Highever, as well, working with our miners.  I didn’t expect them here, so far from Orzammar, but they are not Orzammar dwarves.  The dwarves here are from Kal-Sharok, which is another dwarven city just north of here under the Hunterhorns.  There was some talk of Deep Roads and darkspawn, but everyone stopped if they saw me nearby.  I’ve never heard talk like that in Highever, but maybe they find old dwarven roads in our mines too.  I’ll have to find out, of course, once I get home.  Papa must know, if I can get him to talk of it._

_Mining is quite dangerous, as you might imagine.  Removing water from the underground mines provides the biggest problem.  We breed a variety of strong, sturdy horses in Highever to turn the wheels, which pump the water out of many of our mines.  In some places, in the Coast Range, water mills run the pumps, but a water mill requires a strong flowing stream, so horses run the pumps in most places._

_Papa brought some breeding stock from our stud to the Haris Manor.  He believes our sturdy horses can be bred there and used in the Blasted Hills as well.  In the Blasted Hills, they mine iron, copper, and tin as we do in the Coastal Range, but they also mine gold, some gemstones and some silver.  Fortunately, a few streams run out of the hills to power mills and smelters, so much of the refining is done on site, as it is at home.  Papa wants to return with metal and mining experts from Highever.  He thinks Highever and Haris can work together to develop better methods and a more profitable product.  Cousin Samuel seems excited about these prospects.  I hope Papa will let me help._

_After Mum and Papa left the Manor, I worked with the Haris clerks learning how to keep the books and accounts.  It’s very logical, but requires meticulous attention to details and very clear script.  Boring really…but it’s how the House knows where money is invested, what money is owed and what profits are made._

_Are you bored yet?  I saved the best for last so I hope you read this far.  I trained with Hrothgar’s Wrath as usual, when we stayed at the Manor, but guess who was camped with them and traveled with us to Perendale?  Twenty-five Grey Wardens!  Really.  Real Grey Wardens.  There were even six women.  Two of them were mages.  There were several other male mages as well.  Some were dwarves and elves.  They were traveling from Cumberland to Weisshaupt.  That’s the Warden headquarters, which you probably know.  Sorry.  I’m bragging, aren’t I?_

_One of the women, a dwarf, was a dual wielder like me and she sparred with me!  I lost, but I gave her a good fight.  She even said so.  Said I was very quick and a skilled fighter.  Preening.  Obnoxiously proud.  Sorry for bragging…well, a little sorry.  Kai sparred with her too.  She said she was impressed with both of us.  I talked with her about Dwarven customs.  I’ve never been to Orzammar.  Papa and Fergus have, so I was curious.  Ha Ha.  Bet that surprises you.  Me, curious._

_The other two women were mages.  One was a human healer from the Circle in Starkhaven and the other was an elven mage and a Senior Warden to boot.  She knows the Warden Commander of Ferelden, Duncan.  I’ve met him too, when he’s come to Highever recruiting.  Duncan was born in Highever, but moved to Orlais when he was a child.  Papa and Mum know him.  The elven mage and I talked for a while, as she’s been to Ferelden too.  We even talked about you.  I told her you were my best friend and that I missed you and showed her my laurel pendant and ring.  She and Mum talked, as well.  Mum said she knows Nyla and asked after her._

_Then the mage and I talked about how the wardens use mages in battle and what kind of training they need to enable fighters and mages to work together.  It won’t do, of course, if the mage roasts the warden along with the darkspawn. We have mage healers and fighters in Highever, but not so many.  I was surprised to hear how many darkspawn remain underground and how many entrances there may be to the tunnels.  Many are old dwarven roads, but not all.  The darkspawn tunnel too.  I think I’ll ask Father if we should search for openings in Highever.  The Rasiae might help too._

_So, are you jealous?  You do know I wish you had been with me.  Will you forgive my bragging?  Please.  I wouldn’t tell you if I didn’t think it would interest you too._

_For saying I didn’t know what to write I managed to write quite a lot, didn’t I?  Perhaps I should stop here.  I can tell you about Kai and my stay with the Rasiae clan during Wintermarch in my next letter.  You remember, the Dalish clan that stays on Highever land every winter._

_I’ll be fifteen this month.  It’s almost five years since I’ve seen you.  Loghain says you’re quite tall.  I suspect you’re very handsome too.  Ali, I still do wear my laurel ring and necklace.  Every day.  I just want you to know.  And I still watch for falling stars.  In Nevarra, in Highever and especially in Denerim because I know we see the same sky there.  You do remember I love you?  I will always watch for falling stars.  Always._

_Your, Lys_

Alistair folded the letter and put it in his pouch.  He composed himself before he turned to face Teyrn Loghain.

“She met a group of Grey Wardens at her Cousin’s Manor north of Cumberland,” he announced.

“Wardens.  I could live without ever seeing another warden.”

“But aren’t they heroes?”

“Heroes?  Tools of Orlais, more likely.”

“In Nevarra?  With Hrothgar’s Wrath?  These wardens were from Cumberland on their way to Weisshaupt.”

“Well, perhaps they weren’t as Orlesian as our wardens here.”

“The Fereldan wardens are Orlesian?”

“The Warden Commander is.  Oh, Duncan’s a good fighter and he claims to be from Highever, but he looks like a Rivaini and he seems to report to Orlesian warden headquarters in Montsimmard, not to Weisshaupt.  He’s had trouble recruiting Fereldan’s to his order.  Not that either Maric or I have helped him much.  It’s bad enough that Maric let them back into Ferelden after two hundred years.”

“They were banned for interfering in politics, weren’t they?”

“For rebelling against the Crown.”

“Oh.  That’s bad.”

“Yes, it is.  So much for their apolitical claims.”

“Have Duncan or the wardens interfered?”

“No.  They stick pretty close to their compound in Denerim when they are not on patrol.  In truth, I’ve suggested to Maric that we send some joint patrols out.  Let the wardens get to know our troops and vice versa.  Might even get them some trained Fereldan recruits.”

“From what Lys wrote, it sounded like wardens in Nevarra do that.  The ones she met traveled with the mercenary company, Hrothgar’s Wrath.  She says the Wrath also contract to the Nevarran Crown.”

“It makes sense.  That’s probably why it’s not done here.  Maric tells me all warden posts include wardens from across Thedas, but I find it hard to believe that they usually outnumber the native wardens.”

“Who does the recruiting?”

“Duncan and one or two other Senior Wardens.  Mostly at tourneys and in the prisons.”

“Prisons?”

“Yes.  I know of several thieves and one or two murderers who have been recruited or in one or two cases conscripted.  There are probably more.”

“The wardens take criminals?”

“Selectively.  Sometimes good men do desperate things.  I’ll concede that Duncan always consults with the local authorities before conscripting a criminal.  There are always extenuating circumstances around the crimes of the ones he takes.  He’s consulted with Arl Broughten and Teyrn Bryce and taken a few Highever criminals.  In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if Bryce called Duncan on occasion, if he thought someone deserved a second chance.  Becoming a warden is a sort of death sentence anyway, from what I’ve heard.”

“Because it’s so dangerous to fight Darkspawn?”

“That and something about their initiation.  It’s dangerous, but very secret.  They’re an Order with many secrets, Alistair.”  He frowned.  “You know how suspicious I can be of secrets.  And Duncan, as I said, has trouble finding willing Fereldans.  So wardens from other places fill the ranks.  It’s a weak organization led by a good man who is not a leader.”

“You said conscripted.  What does that mean?”

“The Right of Conscription is an ancient warden right.  It means the person being recruited must be released to the wardens.  It supersedes any royal or chantry law.  If Duncan walked up to us right now and conscripted you, I’d have to let him take you.”

“Maker’s  Bal…Breath.  That’s awful.”

“Well, in their defense, they usually use it against the person holding the recruit, so for the recruit it’s not always a bad thing.”

“Oh, like a prisoner gets recruited and they use it to make the Arl or Bann or whomever release him?”

“Exactly.  Few people are actually recruited against their will that I’ve heard of.  They’re careful with it.  I hope I didn’t burst a bubble Alistair.  I tire of hearing about wardens from your brother.”

“Cailan wants to be a warden?”

“No, he’s not that foolish, but he finds their stories glorious.  He spars with them and they are fine fighters so that’s not a bad thing, but all the stories…Cailan needs fewer stories and more reality.”

“Lys sparred with a woman warden, a dwarf, and did well.”  Alistair said, thinking that maybe he should change the subject.

Loghain smiled at the segue.  “Good for her.  I’ll have to spar with her…when I next see her.”

“At Summerday?”

“Yes.”

Alistair smiled.  “It doesn’t hurt too much anymore, you know.  It’s been so long.  It’s almost a dream.  I’m not sure any of it really happened.”

Loghain rubbed his forehead.  “I thought we might hike to the Peak in the morning.  Are you up for a long walk?”

Alistair grinned.  “Any time, Teyrn Loghain.  We’ll see if you can keep up with me.”

“I’m not that old yet, young man,” Loghain growled, smiling.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Loghain walked back to the monastery with Alistair on the morning of his departure.  They stopped in the courtyard, just inside the main gate, to say their goodbyes.

“Your Grace, would you mind waiting.  I have a letter for Lys I’d like you to take.  I wasn’t going to…well I want to you to take it, if you don’t mind.”

“I’ll wait here, Alistair.  Just over there on the bench under the beech tree.”

Alistair rushed off.  It took a while before he returned.  He handed Teyrn Loghain a thick packet.  Loghain looked surprised.

“It’s for Lys.”  Alistair repeated.

“Yes, I see that.  A nice thick letter.  She’ll be pleased.”

“I hope so.  It’s still hard.  I know I said it wasn’t, but writing and remembering it was all real is hard.  It’s easier to pretend it wasn’t.”

“Alistair, your father asked me to assure you he will acknowledge you.  We all just need to be patient.”

The young man did not smile.  “It’s not exactly a letter.”

Loghain cocked his head.

“It’s drawings.  Of my friends, you, things.”

Loghain’s broad grin surprised him.  “Alistair, I can’t think of anything that might please her more.  She has several of your drawings framed in her room.”

“She does?  Still?”

Loghain squeezed Alistair’s shoulder.  “I’ll see you soon.  I’ll give this to Lys the next time I see her.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

 “Cullen?”

The templar initiate looked up from his bunk as Alistair poked his head around the curtain. 

“Oh, we’re sparring now aren’t we?”

“No, you’re sitting on your bed and I’m-

“-fine.  We’re supposed to be sparring now.  Let’s go.”  Cullen stood, abruptly, almost knocking Alistair aside leaving the cubicle. 

Alistair followed, surprised at Cullen’s behavior.  The young men started toward the armory and practice yard.

“Sorry…didn’t mean to offend.”

Cullen sighed.  “You didn’t.  I’m just in a mood.”

“You don’t do that.  Get in moods.  You’re the most even tempered person I know.”  Alistair stopped.  “I’m a good listener.”

“Let’s just spar.  Maybe it will work itself out.”

“So, I’m to be your practice dummy?”

Cullen’s lips curved slightly, “One that puts up a good fight, yes.”

“Well, after you vent your mood on me, I’ll still listen.”

The young men dressed in their arming clothes, practice armor and took their wasters and shields into the practice yard.  As he promised, Cullen took it out on Alistair.  Even the younger initiate’s vaunted shield bash did not save him from defeat.

“Maker, Cullen, remind me not to get you angry.  I’d hate to see what you would do if you were angry at me.”  Alistair hesitated, looking apprehensively at the older initiate.  “You’re not…angry at me, right?”

“No, Alistair, just something that happened at home.  Let’s change and then we’ll take a walk.”

The young men went to the well and hoisted a bucket of water to fill the basin in the armory bathing alcove.  After washing with soap to remove the sweat and grime and then sluicing themselves with water to rinse off the soap, they dressed in their boots, leggings, tunics and leather jerkins.  To their relief, when off duty inside the monastery grounds, they could dispense with templar armor.  They went out the rear entrance of the armory, past the kitchen gardens and into the fields behind the monastery buildings. 

The monastery’s lands, beyond the main buildings, provided food, game and a place for templars to practice their mage hunting skills.  The less developed lands at the base of Dragon’s Peak alternated between open and forested land.  It was here that the templars would bring two or three mages for the templar initiates to track.  The mages would be given a half day’s start, then the initiates, divided into two or three groups, would be given their phylacteries and told to find the mages.  Alistair had not had to do this yet.  Cullen had done it several times. 

_“We found the mage within a day the first time.  He didn’t resist, of course.  Some do I heard, but our mage just shrugged and said he enjoyed the day in woods,” Cullen had reported to Alistair._

_His second mage proved trickier.  He eluded the initiates for two days.  Two of Cullen’s team suggested they beat the mage for making their chase so difficult, but the senior templar observing them quickly stopped that plan.  The third time proved more problematic.  This time a young woman led them on a chase, but she actually used her magic on them.  At first, they thought perhaps she was supposed to, but their senior templar made it clear that magic was not part of the plan.  They caught the girl, all of them smiting her at the same time.  She remained unconscious as they carried her, none too gently, for their entire walk back to the monastery.  Cullen had never heard what happened to her afterward.  He never asked_.

The young men headed across a fallow field.  Once they gained some distance from the monastery, Cullen spoke.  “While I was home, the local templars captured a woman they claimed was an apostate.  I witnessed it.”

“Was it bad?”

“Horrible.  The apostate was a pleasant old woman, a widow, who had provided potions and poultices to the village for years.  No one had ever bothered her or accused her of magic.  She…we all believed she was just an herbalist.  Even the local Chantry healers used her potions.  No one ever saw her use magic.”

“Then why-“

“-a new templar.  He came to the Chantry from Kinloch Hold a few weeks before I got home.”    

“He moved from the Circle to a small Chantry?  Isn’t that unusual?”  Alistair asked.  He knew that within Fereldan, templars could choose to work at the local Chantries, take lesser vows and even marry or take full vows including chastity.  While all templars trained as mage hunters, the Chantry templars also protected the Revered Mother, the priests, sisters and brothers, and the Chantry buildings.  Mage hunting was a secondary focus.  It was possible to move from a Chantry templar to a Circle templar, if the templar remained unmarried, but moving from Circle to Chantry was uncommon.

The templars assigned to the Mages Circle at  Kinloch Hold promised to dedicate their lives to guarding the mages in the Circle, preventing their escape and seeking out and capturing any and all apostates and maleficars.  Sometimes one or a group of templars who specialized in mage hunting established themselves in an area to scour it of apostates.  A few large Chantries, like Denerim or Amaranthine had their own contingent of Circle templars.  _This new templar must have been a Circle templar hunting apostates,_ Alistair thought.

Cullen confirmed Alistair’s assumption.  “Not if you’re a Circle templar scouting an area for apostates.  He didn’t become one of the Chantry templars, he just billeted with them.  He decided, on his own, that Dame Marlys was a mage.  The other templars didn’t sense her magic, but he claimed he did.  Said his experience and knowledge made him better at sensing magic.  When the Knight-Captain scoffed at his assessment and didn’t act, he contacted sent for a mage hunting patrol.”

“They found she had magic?”

“I don’t think they even checked.  This templar, Ser Karol, met the patrol from Kinloch Hold and took them to Dame Marlys’ cottage outside of town.  It’s on a small plot of land she inherited from her mother and she had a large herb garden on it, as well as a few goats and chickens.  Ser Karol claimed it was remote so she could hide her magic.”

“Did they take her?”

“No.”

“Cullen?”

“They killed her.”

“What?”

“I was there.  I saw the templars go by my father’s Keep and followed them out of curiosity.  Fortunately I had on my templar tabard, or I think they might have killed me too.”

“Why?”  Alistair had stopped walking.  Cullen looked down at the ground, not at his friend.

“Because I witnessed what they did.  She put up no resistance.  She agreed to go with them, but she asked leave to feed and water her animals first.  Ser Karol objected, but the templar leading the patrol agreed to let her.  She went to the feed bin.  There was knife lying on it.  She picked it up to move it and open the bin.  They ran her through.  I saw it.  They claimed she was about to use blood magic.  Alistair, she wasn’t.  She was just moving the knife.”

“Then Ser Karol mocked me because I’m a Dragon’s Peak templar.  I guess we’re considered too elite by the others.  Karol said they should take care of me too.  I would tell what I saw and spread templar secrets.  The Knight-Lieutenant in charge of the Kinloch Hold patrol disagreed.  He said I would know enough not to speak of templar matters and sent me away.  I, Maker Alistair, I didn’t tell anyone.  I stayed in the Keep for the rest of my visit.  I was afraid of Ser Karol.  I still am.”

Alistair did not know how to respond.  Cullen did not scare easily.  He was eighteen, six feet tall and strong.  He was not a boy.  Alistair simply put his hand on Cullen’s arm. 

“I wanted…I still want to be a templar.  I believe Mages can be dangerous.  I also believe they are the Maker’s children who have a terrible gift, which can be used for good as well as evil. 

“Now I’ve learned that templars are no different or perhaps we are worse.  We have a power no one questions.  We can do what we want to mages.  It’s frightening, because not all of us are good.  And the temptation…Maker.  I could get angry and just kill a mage and its likely nothing would happen.  I could just say they tried to use blood magic.  I also found out that templars use female mages – so much for our vows of chastity.  It makes me wonder, again, what happened to the girl we chased.”

“Who told you that they templars rap…use women?

“I went and spoke to the Knight-Captain at our Chantry.  I’ve known him a long time.  He’s been a mentor of sorts; advised me before I came here.  I chose templar training, Alistair.  My family, they gave me to the Chantry, but let me choose what to become.  I could have been a brother.

“My friend, the Knight-Captain, admitted there were, as he said, bad apples and that Ser Karol was one.  He said there weren’t very many, but I don’t know.  He said to just keep my head down, honor my vows, follow orders, and ignore the bad ones.  Let the senior templars take care of them.”  Cullen shook his head, “Like he took care of Ser Karol?”

“Did you ask him that?”

Cullen smiled sadly, “No.  I don’t think I’d like the answer and he wouldn’t have appreciated the question.  I doubt any of our templars here would either.”

“Maybe the Arms Master?”

“Would you want to risk it?”

“Probably not.”  Alistair stopped, “So we take lyrium and put up with bad apples who kill and rape at will because mages are the cursed of the Maker?  The Order keeps all this secret I suppose.”

“Quite. The Knight-Captain told me not to mention it to my father.”

“And we won’t really know how badly our brothers behave or how dangerous mages really are until we take our final vows.”

“So it seems, unless you happen upon an incident, as I did.”

“Will you leave?  Is it too late to decide to become a brother?”

“I don’t know.  I have to think about it.  I don’t think so.  I’m a warrior.  I couldn’t be a scholar like you could.  It’s…where would I go?  There’s nothing for me at home.  Join a mercenary company?”

“You could join the Maric’s Shield, the Royal Guard or one of the Teyrn’s guards.  I could write to Teyrn Loghain or Teyrn Cousland.”

“Teyrn Cousland?”

“Yes.  I met both Teyrns’ in Redcliffe, but I just mean I could help.”

Cullen smiled.  “You’re a good friend, Alistair.  I’ll think about it.  Thanks.  You are a good listener.  No smart ass remarks, even.”

Alistair grinned, “No, but I want your cheese ration for the rest of the term.”

Cullen laughed.  “Done.”

“So you wanted to be a templar?  I mean you came as a page.  Why didn’t you wait until you were fourteen?”

“I wanted it.  Father wanted me to serve as a page for another Bann, but I insisted on serving here.  He agreed, I think, because it meant I could attend here.  I might not have been accepted here as a squire, since our holding is very minor, but I didn’t know that.  I just wanted to be a templar.”

“So, you’re losing a dream.”

“I suppose.”  Cullen frowned.  “What about you?  You never talk much about Redcliffe.”

“Oh, I lived in the kennels and then the stable.  I was raised by dogs.  Great drooling hounds from the Anderfels.”

“The Arl had hounds from the Anderfels?  Not Mabari?”

“Both, but the Anderfels hounds could fly.  The Grey Warden’s Griffons taught them centuries ago and they’ve passed it down.  Flying is scary, but fun.  And they were devout Andrastians to boot.  So, I had no choice.  They insisted I go to the Chantry once I was weaned.”

“You came when you were ten.”  Cullen chuckled.  “Weaned a bit late, huh?”

Alistair blushed, “I didn’t mean…Maker, that one got away from me.  Seriously, though, it wasn’t my choice.  I expected to live in Redcliffe and train to be in the guard.  I was quite content.”

“So what happened?”

“Well, you know I’m a bastard, right?”

Cullen nodded.

“The Arls’ wife was convinced I was _his_ bastard and hated me.  She had me shipped off to the Chantry.”  Noticing Cullen’s raised eyebrows, Alistair continued.  “I’m not.  That is, I am a bastard, just not his bastard.  And neither of the Teyrns are my father either.  I just met them there and they took pity on me.”

“Just happenstance?”

“Not exactly.  Teyrn Cousland’s daughter played a part.  We’re the same age and she befriended me.”  He saw Cullen’s raised eyebrows.  “We were children, Cullen.  I haven’t seen her since we were ten.  I really did live in the stables.  She met me there and then spoke to the Teyrns, they took pity on me and here I am.  It’s better than the small monastery the Arl had picked out for me.  Far better.”

“So when did you live in the armory?”

“Maker, you actually listen to me?”

“Well, given the torrent of words that spills out of you at times, some have to sink in.”  Cullen smirked.

Alistair grimaced and punched Cullen in the arm, then continued.  “The two years before I came here.  The girl spoke to the Teyrns and they arranged for me to go to school, live in the armory and train for the guard.  They thought keeping me out of the Arlessa’s way would solve my problems.  For a while it did.  Then she got pregnant and wanted me gone before the baby was born.  The Teyrns arranged for me to come here.

“As for the Teyrn’s visits, Teyrn Loghain lives in Denerim most of the time.  Visiting me is his excuse to get out of the city, nothing more.  The Couslands…well Highever is pretty far away for them to try and visit.  And I wouldn’t want too much attention.  One Teyrn’s enough.  You know how everyone resented me at first.”

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Trusting me.  You’ve never told anyone else any of that have you?”

“No.  Cullen, don’t make the Teyrn’s attentions into something they’re not.  I don’t tell anyone because it’s just not that interesting.  I’m just a boy, Cullen.  No one special in any way.”

“And the girl?  She’s the one in your drawings.”

“Yeah.  That’s Lys.  She was a friend.  I doubt the young woman she’s likely become would give me a first glance.”

“Oh, she’d give you a glance Alistair.  Most women would.”  Cullen chuckled watching the blush spread across Alistair’s face.

“I’ll just have to make sure I wear my tin pot at all times then, won’t I?  Don’t want to excite the natives.”

“No, wouldn’t want that.  You still care about her?”

Alistair looked up at the blue sky, still devoid of stars.  “Always.” 

“Ah, that serious.  And her?”

Alistair looked down at his feet, frowned, then looked at Cullen as he shook his head and shrugged.  “Wouldn’t know.  She writes sometimes.  Out of kindness, I suppose.  Teyrn Loghain brings her letters.  She’s grown up, she’s a noble and about to be presented at court.  I’m just a boy she knew once.  A common boy.  She’s met plenty of others more eligible than me over the years.”

“Yeah, we do tend to become memories.”  Cullen squeezed his shoulder.

The young men kept walking until they had to return for supper. 

Alistair believed he had no alternative to becoming a templar, but Cullen might.  He would have to decide soon though, if the rumors proved true.  Cullen was both talented and devout.  Rumor said they would offer him a knighthood and full vows before he turned nineteen.  _If he wants it, I’ll speak to Teyrn Loghain._   _A mercenary company couldn’t be any worse than the templars Cullen described, no matter what crimes the company might commit._   _I can’t help myself, but maybe I can help a friend_.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Loghain visited Alistair before Summerday in 9:25 Dragon and again in late Justinian.  They rode, hiked and walked.  In Justinian, Teyrn Loghain told Alistair about his Summerday visit to Highever.  They spoke more of Highever and Lys than they had previously.  Loghain let Alistair know his drawings had thrilled her.  Her letter said the same.  Loghain did not tell him of the King’s plans for the autumn Landsmeet, but saw no harm in talking about Lys when he knew Alistair would finally see her again.  Perhaps at Satinalia – a long delayed Satinalia visit.

To Alistair, it seemed like his world had settled into a steady routine.  If only becoming a templar did not loom on the horizon, he could be content; he still believed his father would fail him, despite Teyrn Loghain’s assurances to the contrary.  It was not until Alistair passed his fifteenth Name Day that everything changed.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. As a new author, I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.  
> Huge thanks to Kira Tamarion for her beta efforts. Her comments always improve the flow and clarity or the chapters. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine. I’ll add, if you haven’t read Kira’s stories, you should. She visits the Blasted Hills too.  
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and those who Reviewed this week: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, maradeux, EasternViolet, nh09jrb, KatDancer2 and SnowHelm Thanks for the continuing thoughtful feedback. It helps me keep going, knowing others enjoy Lys, Alistair, Loghain, Anora and the company too.  
> There are appendices with background assumptions on timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. in AO3. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure (remove spaces and copy): archive of our /works/692656/chapters/1273563


	30. Sherpa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Highever 9:25 Drakonis and Cloudreach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 30:  SHERPA**

* * *

**9:25 Dragon   29 Drakonis ===  Highever**

Lys shook her head and laughed.  “Beaten again.  How did you become such a good archer?  Where did you practice in Denerim?”

“In the very early morning behind our house.  There’s an alley there and no one was around.  It had the added benefit of contrary winds, so I learned to compensate.  I’d practice until the sun rose above, above the buildings behind me.  When I started to see my shadow I’d go home.”  Kai smirked.  “It worked.  No one ever caught me.”

“You had to take so many risks.  Do you miss it?”  Lys shook her head realizing how that sounded.  “I mean, do you miss Denerim.  You family.”

“I knew what you meant.”  Kai chuckled.  “And yes, sometimes, but I’ll get to see them when we go back.  Shianni, my cousin, can be annoying, much as I love her.  Father, well he’s much happier with me now that I have this ‘exalted’ position and managed to keep it, so that’s an improvement.  I think visiting will be easier than actually living there.”

“Good.  Sometimes I wondered.  I did kind of take charge and drag you away.”

“Lys, I was about to be kidnapped and likely raped or worse.  You saved me.  I could never have imagined a job like this in my wildest dreams.”

“Alright.”  Lys grinned.  “I just wanted to make sure.  You did seem to enjoy visiting the Rasiae and traveling to Nevarra.  I tend to take all that for granted.  I know how fortunate I am.  I know it’s rare for the Rasiae to accept outsiders, much less humans, but I still take it for granted because it’s been a part of my life for so long.”

“I hope I get to  that point too,” Kai replied.  “The past months have been amazing.  I want them to continue.”

“Well, let’s go to the armory.  I suppose it’s time to let you beat me with blades.  At least, for now, I still have better stealth and lock picking skills.”

“Yes, but I can pilfer any pocket or pouch.”

“At least you return whatever you take.”  She gave Kai a sidelong look.  “At least I think you do.”

“Of course I do.  I just like to keep in practice.”

The two young women walked from the archery range towards the armory.

“So this Summerday Tourney,” Kai said.  “Will you enter?  I know Lord Fergus is.”

“Maker, no.  I’m not good enough.  Maybe, when I’m older.  The Vespers Duels are for squires or other young persons who are not yet knights.  I could enter as a dual wielder, but I’d just lose in the first round.  I need more practice.  Or I could enter the archery contests.  They’re more open, but I’d lose badly there too.  As you’ve noticed, our range is not windy, so I only do well in perfect conditions.”  Lys stopped.  “You could enter the archery contest.  You’re definitely good enough.”

“Me.  I’m an elf.”

“Highever.”

Kai laughed.  Lys had taken to saying ‘Highever’ whenever Kailian protested that she couldn’t do something because she was an elf.  “Right.  Do many elves enter?”

“Yes.  I mean not lots, but several every year.  Not as many women, but women do enter.  So we should enter you.  I’m still young – only fifteen.  Most of the entrants are seventeen or eighteen or older, even in the archery contests.”

Kai grinned.  “You’re sure it would be alright?”

“I take it you’re interested?”

“Interested in what?” a new voice chimed in. 

“Fergus, I suggested Kai enter the archery competition at the Tourney.”

“I think that’s a brilliant idea.”  Fergus replied.  “Kai, you’re good.  We should definitely see that you’re registered.”

“Thank you, Lord Fergus.  I think I would like that.  I just wish my mum could see me.”  She grinned at Lys.  “My mum would be proud, even if I didn’t win.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lys sat on the cliffs overlooking the Waking Sea, as she often did when she wanted solitude.  She favored a spot not far from the cellar hole of the original Cousland farmhold.  She had tethered Starfall near the ancient oak in the old farmyard, then walked the short distance to the cliff top.  She enjoyed the warmer winds of late Drakonis that blew in off the Waking Sea. 

In a month, it would be Summerday, which had once been her favorite fest day.  This year, she wished it was already past.  It had been five years since Alistair’s visit.  _Should I still even write to him_?  Loghain always assured her that Alistair enjoyed her letters, but his were so short.  _Dutiful, his letters are dutiful.  They are what I would write if I had to reply.  And my letters describe things he can’t do and places he can’t go.  I pretend I’m writing to the boy I knew, not the young man I don’t know who’s locked away in a monastery.  Maybe I should stop._   She leaned forward resting her head on her bent knees.  _I don’t believe King Maric will acknowledge him; how can he believe?_

“Lys?”

She jerked her head up and turned.  “Kai, you startled me.”

“You didn’t show up to spar.  I was worried.”

“Oh, right.  Sorry.  I guess I’ve been here longer than I planned.  I’m sorry.”

“Well, Hitch needed some exercise.”

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t be so forgetful.  I’m really sorry.”

“Lys, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.  I just lost track of time.”

Kai frowned.

“I just wanted some time to think.  It’s quiet here.”

Kai giggled.  “You’re kidding right?”

Lys looked puzzled.

“The sea birds are the nosiest birds I’ve ever heard.  The waves and the wind only add more noise to the birds screeching.”

Lys smiled in spite of herself.  “I guess I don’t find that to be noise.  I mean it’s not quiet as the forest can be at times, but…maybe quiet isn’t the right word.  I like the solitude.”  She sighed.  “I’m just being selfish.  Feeling sorry for myself.  I just want the next few weeks to be over and that makes me sad.  I used to love Summerday and the Tourney.  I don’t anymore.”

“Why?”

“Memories of better Summerdays.”

“Can’t this one be just as good?”

“No.  I’m missing a friend.”

“The boy?  Alistair?”  Lys had not spoken of him very often to Kai.  Pippa had told her a little of their story and his visit many years before.  She knew Lys wrote to him and that writing usually made Lys quiet.

“Yes.  He’s in a monastery school training to be a templar.  He doesn’t want to be a templar.  Teyrn Loghain visits him, but I can’t.  Not allowed.  I miss him.  I especially miss him at Summerday, because he visited once and it was perfect.  And now he hardly writes.  And I write these long letters telling him about my wonderful travels and I’m so stupid.  Why would he want to hear about my travels.  No wonder he says so little.  I’m just a dumb girl who couldn’t help him and brags about her perfect life.”  She had been rubbing a large stone in her hands.  Suddenly she threw it as hard as she could over the cliff and into the sea.  “Maker, I’m so stupid.”

Before Kai could respond, Lys continued.  “Tell me Kai, you’re locked away in a monastery school.  All you see are other boys, templars, brothers, occasionally a sister or priest.  Only two people from outside ever visit.  You had a friend, a girl, who tried to help you, but failed.  That’s why you’re locked up.  What would you want to hear from her?”

“I don’t know.  Lys.  If you were a good friend, I think I would want to hear about your life.  What you do.  What you think.  Even if I couldn’t do those things.  I know I’d want to know what Shianni, Soris and my father were doing if I was in jail.  Wouldn’t you want to know that about him?  What I don’t understand is how did you fail?”

“I didn’t convince my father and Teyrn Loghain to keep him out of the Chantry.”

“How old were you?”

“Ten.”

“Were you good friends?”

“The best.  I think.  I mean I thought so, but I don’t know.  Maybe he didn’t.  Maybe he was just being nice to the Teyrn’s stupid daughter.”  She looked at Kai.  “People do that you know.  Be nice to me because of who I am.  ‘Tell the Teyrn’s daughter she’s a good fighter, but don’t hurt her when you spar or beat her too badly.’  The only place I can be me is with the Rasiae.  Here I’m always a Cousland.  I think people like me, but I never know.  Even in Nevarra, I’m a relation of the House leader.  Sometimes, I’m not even sure of you.  Or Pippa.”

“You’re not serious?  Me?  Pippa?  Lys, I am grateful to you for all the opportunities, but they wouldn’t mean much if we didn’t get along.  I mean can you imagine if we argued the whole time we shared a cabin on the ship or the aravel with the Fenharial.  You can count on me and not because your farther pays my wages.  All you need to do is ask and I’ll stand by you.”

Lys tried to conceal the tears that threatened  to fall.  “Thanks, Kai.  I’d do the same for you.”

“I know.  You already have.  Does It matter so much that people like you?”

“Not everyone, no.  It matters that I have friends.  People I trust, who trust me as Lys, not the Teyrn’s daughter.  Maker, I’ll stop.  I hate it when I whine like this.”

Kai started laughing. 

“What?”

“You can be the most exasperating person.  You can’t solve everyone’s problems every time.  It’s annoying that you think you can.  You solved my problems and I appreciate it every day.  You work hard with your Mum, which helps improve the economy here.  You and Pippa are not the silly noble girls I used to see in Denerim, pushing everyone out of their way in the Market and shouting at their elven servants.  I wouldn’t be here if you were a silly noble girl, no matter what Vaughan might do to me.  But, Andraste’s Buxom Bosom, Lys, you need to stop this feeling sorry for yourself silliness.  I don’t know Alistair and I have no idea what he thinks of you, but whatever he thinks, it’s not your fault.  So just stop.”

Lys had been looking out to sea as Kai spoke.  She risked a sidelong glance in Kai’s direction.  “So, what do you really think Kailian?”

Kai laughed.  “You certainly knew I couldn’t hold my tongue when you hired me.”

“Yup.  One of the reasons I like you.”

“Well, Lady Cousland, I happen to like you too.  I’d like to think that, even though I am your servant and an elf, we’re friends.”

“Of course we are.  I think of you as a friend.”

“Is it so hard to believe I think the same of you?”

“Sometimes, when I’m feeling self-absorbed and sorry for myself, yes.”

“That’s insulting you know.  So how do you resolve it?”

“I should stop feeling sorry.  Maker, you sound like Mum.  Let’s go spar.  I’ll feel better after you beat me.”

The girls walked toward their horses.  Lys reached out to touch Kailian’s shoulder.  “Kai?”

Kailian stopped and looked at Lys expectantly.

“Thank you.”  Lys gave Kai a hug, giggling at the surprised look on her face.  “When I was younger I hugged people all the time.  I stopped as I got older.  Not so appropriate and all that.  You’re lucky I guess, five years ago I’d have been hugging you all the time.”

“Thank the Maker for small favors,” Kai said with a grin.  “I don’t mind hugs, Lys.  My Mum hugged a lot.  Shianni does too, but I usually hit her afterward.  I probably shouldn’t do that with you, right?”

“If you want me to stop, you could ask first.”  Lys hesitated, before continuing.  “Thanks.  Only my Mum and Alistair ever talked to me that way.  Pippa tends to avoid me when I’m ‘in a mood’ as she calls it.  Fergus just teases me until I get angry – which sort of works.  And I try not to let Papa see me when I’m that way.  So thanks.  You’re a good friend.  I hope I can be the same for you.”

 “I think we off to a good start, my lady.”

Lys grinned.  “Let’s go spar.  I need to improve.  And you don’t make it easy on me.  Only you, Alistair and Teyrn Loghain don’t take it easy on me when we spar.  Even the Wrath go easy with me, I think.  Teyrn Loghain always says no one ever challenges me but him.  I’ll never beat you on the archery range, but one day I will beat you with blades.”

“You should be so lucky.  I promise I will always try my best to beat you.”  Kai gave her a wicked grin.  “And I’ll always succeed.”

**9:25 Dragon   27 Cloudreach  ===  Castle Cousland, Highever**

A cart with three young mabari’s from the King’s kennel lurched along the road to Highever.  Loghain rode ahead with his guard grinning far too often.  He had done that a lot on this ride, much to the bewilderment of his guard.  The pups in the cart had been too young to imprint in Guardian and the Couslands had not returned to Denerim later in the spring.  He hoped one of the pups would imprint with Lys as a belated Name Day gift.

The cart diverted to the kennels immediately upon entering Castle Cousland’s outer courtyard.  The kennel master expected the delivery and had a separate run reserved for the three royal pups.  Loghain planned to surprise Lys with the gift, but knew surprising  her could be difficult.  Luck was with him this day, however, as the young lady in question was in Higheverport with her mother.

Greeting his fellow Teyrn, Bryce Cousland grinned.  “I managed to send both Lys and her mother off this morning on Guild business, which they’d planned on delaying until after you arrived.”

“You seem rather proud of that accomplishment, Bryce.”  Loghain needled.

“Inordinately so,” Bryce responded.  “This is my wife and daughter I manipulated.  Wouldn’t you be?” 

“Without your years of practice, I’d despair of ever achieving such a feat.  In fact, I usually fail with Anora.”  Loghain laughed.  “I brought three pups, by the way, a black and tan, a brindle and a tan.  The black and tan is a female and the other two are males.  All three are beautiful pups.  I doubt I’ll be able to wait until tomorrow.  I’ll take her out to see them after dinner, if that’s alright with you.”

“You’re worrying me, Loghain.  I don’t think I’ve seen you this excited.”

“Well, my guard will agree with you.  I’ve smiled far too much on the ride here.  Don’t worry, taciturnity will re-establish itself.  I’ll be scaring small children again soon.  I suppose I anticipate Lys’ joy, if this succeeds, and that makes me happy.  I have fond memories of my mabari.  I’d like her to have that experience.”

“Your mabari?  I think I remember you telling that story.  Adalla was her name?”  Bryce frowned, recalling the sad ending.  “You never thought to try for another?”

“No.  Perhaps, if I had stayed in Gwaren I would have.  Or had Anora try.  I was so infrequently there after Rowan died.  Denerim is no place for a mabari to live.  Don’t tell King Maric I said that, of course.  Although I think he might agree.  He’s never tried for himself or Cailan.  He gives them all away.”

The two men went into the Keep, where Fergus’ wife Oriana greeted them.  Loghain realized it had been two years since their marriage.  They already had a young son, Oren, who would be a year old in a month.  He wondered, at times, if Bryce and Eleanor realized what a perfect little world they had created in Highever since the Rebellion.  Oh, they weren’t untouched by sadness, but compared to many, their joys far outweighed their sorrows.  No wonder he happily anticipated his  visits here. 

He felt a twinge of regret, as he remembered bringing Alistair here all those years ago.  _In hindsight, it might have been the cruelest thing I’ve ever done.  Showing the boy what his life might have been, then whisking him off to the Chantry a few months later.  I’m surprised Alistair agrees to see me sometimes.  If only Maric would take that final step and acknowledge him._

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lys and Eleanor Cousland returned to the Castle in time to dress for a family dinner in the small hall near the kitchens.  After the meal, Loghain suggested a walk to check on his horse, Caradoc.  The kennels were nearby and Lys insisted on investigating the barking she heard, as he knew she would. 

“Master Sean, who brought the puppies?” she asked the Kennel Master, then realizing who must have brought them, turned to Loghain.  “Did King Maric ask you to bring them?  Are they from the Royal Kennels?  Why?”

“No, this was my idea, not King Maric’s, but yes they are from the Royal Kennels.”  He smiled, “I owe you a Name Day gift, my lady.”

“Me.  You brought them to imprint on me?”

“Well, you’re fifteen and old enough to care for a mabari pup and you fight well enough to train with one.”  He watched a huge smile illuminate her face.  The Kennel Master opened the Kennel gate and let the puppies out into the kennel yard.

 “Thank you for thinking of this.  May I go in?”

“Of, course, my lady,” the Kennel Master said.  Lys went into the yard and sat on the straw strewn across the ground.  Loghain followed and sat off to the side on a bench.  The three puppies ran to Lys and all tumbled into her lap, fighting and nipping at each other.  They played with each other and her for some time, but eventually only the black and tan female remained, curling up to nap.

“I think you have a mabari, My Lady,” the Kennel Master Sean said.

Lys smiled, scratching the sleeping pup between her ears.  “It seems I do, Sean.”

The tan male returned to the kennel with no hesitation, but the brindle loped over to Loghain and began nipping at this boot.  Loghain reached down, unthinking, and petted the pup as he watched Lys scratch the black and tan.  Suddenly he realized the pup was jumping up to reach his lap.  The Kennel Master chuckled.

“Well, Your Grace, it seems we have two imprints tonight.”  Lys looked up, realizing what Master Sean meant. 

“Oh, Teyrn Loghain, we both have mabaris.”  Loghain gave Lys as rueful smile. 

“Not what I expected,” he grumbled managing to sound pleased at the same time.

“No?  Maybe what you don’t expect is what you need.  Do you have a name?”

“I’ll have to think about it.  Do you?”

“Let’s see, little one,”  Lys scratched the black and tan under her chin to wake her up, “what do you think of Cheddar?”  The mabari huffed and butted her hand away. 

“No.  Brie?”

Another sniff.

“No.  Camembert with Cam for short?  No.  Not fond of cheese I guess.  Let’s try some others.  Perhaps Shaman?” 

The puppy whined. 

“No again.  Shepherd?” 

The tail wagged, but the pup butted Lys hand away again.

“Still not perfect.  I know…  Sherpa.” 

The wriggling ball of fur that reached up to lick her face convinced Lys she had found the right name. 

“Fine, fine.  Sherpa it is.”

“Sherpa?”  Loghain enquired. 

“A Sherpa is someone who helps you carry you load and find your way.”

“In what language?”

“You know, I don’t remember exactly where I heard it.  Probably on shipboard or on the docks.  We’ve traveled so much I don’t always remember where I pick a word up.  I remember some words because I like their sound or meaning, I guess.  What about a name for your boy?”  Distract and divert, she thought.  _Stupid, I would pick a name from Areth.  But she liked it._  

“Well, I don’t like Surprise, even though he is.  Do you have any ideas?”

“I can’t name your mabari.”

“Meaning you do.”

“I won’t say them aloud.”  She got up and whispered in his ear, Sherpa trailing closely behind her. 

“I like them.  Let’s see what he thinks.  Serendipity?”

The pup huffed, annoyed. 

“Destiny?”

The pup cocked his head. 

“Happenstance?  Hap for short?” 

The puppy barked happily and wagged his entire rear end. 

“I think we have a name!  And it’s my favorite too.”

Lys leaned over to give Loghain a hug and a kiss on his cheek.  “Thank you.  She’s a perfect gift.”  She wrinkled her nose as she looked at the brindle.  “What will happen to him?”

“I’ll take him back to Denerim.  He’ll find his match.  Hap will keep him company on the ride back.”

“Good.  He looks very lonely at the moment.”

“Don’t Lys,” he warned.  He knew she was thinking perhaps the brindle might have imprinted on Alistair.  A lonely puppy for a lonely boy…well young man now.

“How was he when you saw him?  Alright?”

“Yes.”

“He must feel so alone with no hope of reprieve, I can’t imagine.  How can you live a life with no hope?”

“Lys, he’s does well at Dragon’s Peak.  You imagine it worse than it is.  He has friends and excels at his studies and arms training.  He believes, as I do, that his father will acknowledge him when the time is right.  He has hope, Lys.”

“Fine, fine.  I’ll just enjoy my privileged life here and not think about it.”  She sighed.  “I’m sorry.  I miss him still.  I wonder if I’d even know him if I saw him.  Or if he would know me.  I just feel so fortunate and wish I could share it.”

“You are fortunate, Lys and it’s to your credit you realize it.  You mother and father raised two incredible children.  Nothing about Alistair’s situation is your doing.  I think you need to accept that and enjoy your pup.”

“You’re right as usual.  I just see how unjustly people are treated and I want to fix it.  I think of Nathaniel, too.”

“Howe?  What’s happened to him?”

“Well, he’s still in the Free Marches.  It is likely that his father disinherited him.  Nothing’s been announced, but Thomas will be his heir now.”  Loghain raised his eyebrows.  “I know, it’s a father’s right to choose the heir, but Thomas is horrible, he’ll make a horrible Arl.”

“Well, he’ll just follow in his father’s footsteps I imagine,” Loghain responded dryly.  “I hadn’t known Howe had disinherited Nathaniel, but Nate may be better off being away.  He can come back eventually, marry and lead some lord’s army or guard.”

Lys eyed him speculatively, “Well, of course Papa or Fergus would take him on and make him a Bann or even an Arl I suspect.”  She grinned.  “Particularly if he married the Arl of Higheverport’s daughter.  You’re right, he’s probably better off for now.”

“Nate and Pippa?”

“You didn’t hear it from me.  It’s another thing we have in common.  Our lost boys.”

“Would Pippa want a mabari?  We could try…”

“Nice thought, but no.  She’s not a battle maiden; she doesn’t even like to hunt.  A spaniel would be more her breed.”  She frowned.  “Do you think that Sherpa replaces Ali?”

“No, of course not, Lys.  I…she is company.  I thought if Pippa would be interested, it might be a comfort, that’s all.”

“She will be for me.  You’re right, as usual.  I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have snapped.”

“No harm done, Lys.  I know you miss him.  He misses you too, although he tries to hide it.  From himself as much as from me.  He finds it easier not to write much.”

“I understand,” Lys murmured.  “It’s alright.  I find writing to him makes me feel better, but if you think I should stop…if it’s better for him, I will.”

“No, I think he finds your letters…comforting, as you say; he doesn’t find the same comfort in responding.  Keep writing.  He’ll write when he can.  Actually, I have a letter for you.  This seems like a good time.  I thought you might want me to hand it to you in private.”

“Thank you.  It saves me from all the questions.  Particularly when he doesn’t say much.”  She took the packet.  “This is thick,” she looked up surprised.  “Do you mind if I open it?”

“No, of course not.”

_9:25 Dragon  10 Drakonis_

_Dear Lys,_

_I thought you might like these.  As you probably noticed, I write very short letters.  Maybe these will make up for that.  I miss you, I do.  I enjoy your letters; please don’t think I don’t.  Loghain said you worried I didn’t want you to write.  I do.  I often look at the stars and think of you, but I try not to think of you too much.  I care about you… but it’s hard to remember my life before Dragon’s Peak.  Sometimes you seem like a dream – a good one, but a dream that never really happened._

_I never have time to draw anything when Teyrn Loghain visits, but I do at other times.  The brothers in the scriptorium sometimes give me scraps to draw on.  I’ve put little notes on each.  Cullen, by the way, will soon take his final vows.  He’s a model templar.  He’s eighteen and they’ve asked him take his vows early.  He’ll be knighted as well.  It’s said he’ll go to Kinloch Hold, the Tower of the Circle of Magi.  I’ll miss him.  I seem to make friends, then lose them.  Anyway, I hope you like these._

_~~Always Alist~~ _ _Always.  Love.  Your, Ali_

Lys had turned away from Loghain as she opened the letter.  Sherpa nudged her arm and Lys resumed scratching her head.  She was a comfort. _That’s new.  He’s never said he cared about me before.  Or that he missed me._ Lys smiled. _It is hard to remember, I can understand that.  I feel the same.  At least I know he wants my letters._ Her grin widened as she wiped a tear from her cheek.  She turned to Loghain.

“Oh, Teyrn Loghain, it’s a lovely letter, the best, and he sent drawings.  There are some of you and of his friend Cullen.  These are wonderful!  Did you know?”

“No.  I just thought it was longer letter than he usually writes.”  _He certainly made her feel better with this one.  Good!_

“Here, that is you on Dragon’s Peak, he says.  This is of his friend Cullen.  He’s written about him before.  He did write one long letter a couple of years ago.  Have you met Cullen?

“Briefly, yes.  He seemed a fine young man.  I watched them spar a few times.  They’re both very good.  It was clear, the way they joked and taunted each other, that they were good friends.”

“He’s taking his vows, Alistair says.”

“He’s young for that.”

“Yes, Ali says it’s early and that he’ll miss him.”

Loghain frowned.  _Not what she needs to hear._

There’s another of his friends Cuthbert and Theobald sparring and one of a pillow fight… that must be in the initiates’ dormitory.  They look happy.”

“I told you he’s not unhappy, Lys.”

“I know.  These just help me believe it.  Not that I think you would lie.” She quickly qualified.  “Just that he would…to make us feel better.”

Teyrn Loghain handed back the drawings.  Lys gathered them together and stood.  Both puppies slept. 

“We should leave them with their brother.  We’ll come back tomorrow to start training,” Loghain said.  They deposited their pups in the kennel and secured the gate. 

On returning to the Castle, they joined the Teyrn, Teyrna, Oriana and Fergus in the Solar.  They all looked up expectantly.  Lys grinned.  “I have a mabari.  Her name is Sherpa and she’s a black and tan.”  She glanced at Fergus.  “I guess it’s a good thing you have a son, or you might be jealous.” 

Oriana and Eleanor burst out laughing as Fergus looked at his sister in disbelief.  “You’re comparing a mabari pup to my son?”

“Well, Oren is much better, I know, but you were so whiney when no pup imprinted on you that I’m sure you’d be jealous if you didn’t have Oriana and Oren.”

Fergus shook his head.  “Sometimes little sister, I think you’re growing up then you say the most outrageous thing, and you’re ten again.”

“Well, Fergus, let’s be honest, you were whiny the last time you tried to imprint and failed,” his father chuckled. 

“Don’t worry Fergus, there’s hope.  I found out tonight that a mabari will even imprint on an old man.”  Fergus looked at Loghain, confused.  “It appears I have a mabari pup as well.  Hap, his name is, short for Happenstance.”

Eleanor clapped her hands together, “That’s wonderful news Loghain.  You’ll enjoy having him with you, especially now that Anora spends most of her time in her Palace apartment.”

That elicited a groan from Loghain, “Let’s not talk about the wedding, please.  It’s already taking up all her time and its ten months away.  I’m rather glad most of the planning takes place at the Palace.  Let Maric be bothered, not me!”

Everyone laughed, as Bryce poured cider for Lys and  brandy for everyone else.  “To Ferelden and her Dog Lords,” he offered.  The company laughed and responded “Ferelden!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I won’t post a chapter again until the week of July 15. It will be Summerday and Anora will join the party. Just a heads up and an enticement to return. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. As a new author, I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her efforts. Her comments always improve the content, flow and clarity of the chapters. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and those who Reviewed this week: Contess, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Pollyanana24, clafount, Mike3207, maradeux, EasternViolet, nh09jrb, katdancer2 and SnowHelm Thanks for the continuing thoughtful feedback. It helps me keep going, knowing others enjoy Lys, Alistair, Loghain, Anora and the company too.
> 
> There are appendices with background assumptions on timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. in AO3. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure (remove spaces and copy): archive of our /works/692656/chapters/1273563


	31. Maric's Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Highever, Summerday fest time 9:25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Warning and Scene summary can be found at the end of the chapter. The potentially triggering scene is set off by start and end warning notes.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

****Chapter 31 – MARIC’S JUSTICE** **

* * *

**9:25 Dragon  ===   Cloudreach,  Highever**

Lady Anora, Crown Prince Cailan, and King Maric arrived a few days after Teyrn Loghain.  Rendon, Thomas, and Delilah Howe followed the same afternoon, along with other guests.  The King’s arrival marked the end of the informal dinners and casual daytime pursuits.  The night King Maric arrived, everyone gathered for dinner in the Great Hall and spent the rest of the evening enjoying the gardens and the fine weather.  Most retired early after one or more days of travel. 

The next morning Anora, Eleanor, Oriana, and Delilah gathered in the Solar to admire Oren and indulge in court gossip and news.  The King, the Teyrns, Prince Cailan, Arl Howe, and Fergus headed off to the practice yard to work off the strains of travel.  Lys and Pippa excused themselves from the women in the solar and set off to explore the Fair, followed by Myfa and Kai. 

Thomas Howe set off towards the city.  Several other nobles were staying at the Arl’s Keep or in Higheverport.  He had friends to meet.    

As they walked toward the fairgrounds just outside the North gate, Lys turned to look back at the Castle.  

“Perhaps I should have stayed.  Maybe Anora wouldn’t have minded this time.”

“She does seem to find you annoying,” Pippa replied, frowning.  “It’s odd.  You’re actually quite well behaved when she’s around.”

“Thank you for that vote of confidence, My Lady Broughten.”  Lys pinched the bridge of her nose.  “I do regret the lack of friendship between us.  She used to play with me when I was little.  She read to me and we played dress up.  She helped me learn to ride Arrow and use my first bow.”

“I remember,” Pippa said.  “Perhaps it was the rowdy, unkempt seven or eight year old that put her off.”

“Probably that and the age difference…eight years is a long time.  It seems less now.  That’s why I wondered if I should have stayed.  Sometimes we find common ground.  Well, perhaps I’ll try to be cordial and befriend her later in their visit.”

Shortly after Celia, Anora’s mother, died the twelve year old often stayed with the Couslands after arriving in Denerim.  Then, after a few years, less so, and when Anora did, she seemed annoyed with Lys.  It had disappointed Lys when Anora chose not to become a Lady-in-Waiting to her mother, as both the Teyrna and Loghain had expected.  It had disappointed Teyrna Eleanor too.

Teyrna Eleanor did not always have a Lady-in-Waiting .  In fact, the training she provided did not align with that of a normal noble woman’s.  Oh, the girls would be taught the skills needed to run a noble household and navigate court.  Her young women could dance; weave, spin, sew and embroider; pursue artistic skills; and converse at salons, but Teyrna Eleanor expected more.  Not all parents wanted their daughters to learn the additional skills. 

The Teyrna required her Ladies to work with the Guilds; be conversant with not only Fereldan, but also Thedosian politics; understand the economic benefits of trade and industry; and learn to ride and shoot.  Her Ladies traveled to Nevarra when Teyrna Eleanor did and spoke at least one other language.  She had kept Lys at home to ensure she received this training.  She had hoped to impart the same to Anora with Loghain’s blessing.

Over the years, Teyrna Eleanor had chosen a few young noble women, whom she believed would benefit from such instruction and whose families agreed.  Alfstanna Eremon was one.  In effect, Pippa was another, although less formal since the Keep was so close.  Rendon Howe had declined for Delilah and sent her elsewhere.  Habren Bryland was simply unsuitable.  Anora had been another young woman Eleanor had chosen. 

Anora had refused the honor rather abruptly, after spending almost a year with the Couslands, saying she wanted to be near her father after so many years of separation.  The Teyrna and Anora had remained close.  Many of the lessons Eleanor offered had been taught to Anora when she visited, but Eleanor always regretted Anora’s choice to not come and live with the Couslands.

Lys continued walking with Pippa, but remained deep in thought.  She recalled times, discussing fashion with Anora and her mum, when she believed they had found some common ground.  Then Anora would resume the reserve she exhibited with those she disliked or distrusted.  Lys feared Anora resented her friendship with Teyrn Loghain, but she never felt comfortable discussing this with the Teyrn.  He seemed oblivious to the tension between the two young women.

“Anora looked lovely when she arrived yesterday, considering the long journey,” Pippa remarked, trying to draw Lys out.

“She did, but she probably washed and changed just before their arrival.”

“The King and Prince Cailan waited, while she stopped at an inn?”

“No.  Cailan would wait of course, he does what she tells him to do, but King Maric wouldn’t.  She equipped her carriage with a washbasin, clothes press and cot.  She can wash, sleep lying down and dress, all within the confines of the carriage.  It’s quite innovative.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.  Loghain described it to me in excruciating detail, usually quoting Anora.  One of the funniest stories he’s ever told.  He claims that as a child Anora believed she was ‘monarch of the world’ and he wondered if just being Queen of Ferelden would be a come down.”

“Now you are teasing.  Loghain doesn’t tell funny stories.”

“Of course he does.  His humor is very dry, but quite funny.  He is selective about his audience, though.”  Lys paused.  “What puzzles me is her maid.”

“Her maid?”

“She’s Orlesian.”

“What!”

“Very Orlesian.  Fortunately, Erlina’s voice is tolerable, in spite of the accent, unlike other Orlesians I love to hate.”

“How can Loghain’s daughter have an Orlesian maid?”

“I imagine because she is Loghain’s daughter.  Who would question it?  Well, besides Loghain, himself, but he admits to losing that battle.”  She laughed, “And me, of course.  Anora is somewhat vain and she believes, like many Fereldan’s, that Orlais represents high culture even though she distrusts them politically.  Remember, Celene called her ‘the rose among the brambles’, when she visited five years ago.  Lucky us, we’ve been to Nevarra and know the best fashion,” she grinned at Pippa.

“Anora sounds complicated.  Maybe it’s best that you avoid her.”

“I admire her.  She’s intelligent, independent, clever…she’ll be a great queen.  I regret we are not friends.  I always think we should be, but she rebuffs my attempts.  I can’t talk to Loghain about it.  It’s just…she’s so hard to approach.  She can be so controlled and composed.  That will be good in a queen I guess, but I know she feels things strongly she just hides it well.  In some ways, I wish I could do the same, then again, I like hugs and laughter and fun and not worrying what people think, at least sometimes.

Kai snorted and tried to cover it her laugh with a cough.  Lys turned with a glare.

“Sorry, My Lady,” she coughed.  “Must be dust.”

“Dust?”

“Or imagining you being as calm and composed as Lady Mac Tir for more than half the turn of the glass.”

Pippa and Myfa were giggling now. 

“Well, you should be glad I’m so benevolent.  I doubt Anora would put up with your smart remarks.  Maker, she orders Cailan about all the time, particularly since she moved into the palace.  He seems to take it in stride.  He tells of following her around Gwaren when he visited there as a child.  They actually pretended to fight an ogre in the Gwaren wine cellars.”  Lys saw Philippa’s skeptical glance.  “Anora’s a good archer and can use blades, although she never practices in front of anyone.  Cailan resists her direction at times, now, and one day he may resent it.  

“I’ve also seen her relax with Mum.  She’s quite lovely when she does.  And funny.  Her wit can be quite devastating.”

“What does your Mum think?”  Pippa had finally stopped giggling.

“She mothers Anora.  You’ve seen her.  Anora’s Mum died when she was twelve and they were, I think, very close.  Loghain left them alone in Gwaren when he came to Denerim after Queen Rowan died.  He sort of deserted them, really.  She had to see her Mum sicken and die, without him there.  If I were Anora, I’d be angry about that.  She adores her father, although she certainly speaks up to him when they disagree.  He’s her only family.  She’s not close to King Maric. 

“Mum thinks I’m jealous of Anora.  It’s the one topic Mum and I don’t discuss.  I’ve thought about it, a lot.  I’m not.  I don’t want to be Queen and I don’t have any interest in marrying Cailan.  I’ll be perfectly happy living at Long’s Reach and working for Cousin Samuel, but I think Anora resents me and the time I spend with Teyrn Loghain and maybe even King Maric.”  Lys threw her hands up, “I don’t know.  Let’s talk about something else.”

“We could talk about a beautiful elven lady’s maid who carries weapons,” whispered Kailian.  “And who beats her mistress at archery and mouths off all the time.  Now that girl is truly evil.”

Myfa giggled.  Pippa and Lys turned to look at Kai who gazed back innocently.

Lys started laughing.  “You’ll be less brash once I thrash you with blades, Kai Tabris.  And I will one day.”

Kai responded with a self-satisfied smirk.  “We’ll see, My Lady.  Hasn’t happened yet.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The four young women stood at the entrance to the Fair, Myfa, Pippa and Kai discussing where to go first.  Lys remained quiet, offering no opinion.

“Lys, hello?”  Pippa poked her.

“Sorry, Pippa, lost in thought again.  You lead on, I’ll follow.  I really have nothing special to purchase today.”

“Still thinking about Anora?”

“Not exactly.  Just thinking how I can befriend her or at least improve our relationship.” 

Kai and Pippa exchanged glances.  Kai nodded, meaning she would keep a close eye on her lady.  Lys, when lost in thought, could wander off while they shopped. 

Kailian performed the duties of a lady’s maid, but had other skills as well.  She had proved herself as adept with her blades and bow as with a needle.  She shared Lys’ fascination with both fashion and defense.  When she and Lys ventured out, both carried boot knives, throwing knives on their belts and lock picks in their braids.  While they maintained a careful distance in public, in private they chattered as any friends would.  More mature at eighteen to Lys’ fifteen, Kai’s age provided some assurance to Teyrna Eleanor that they wouldn’t get into too much trouble. 

Myfanwy, Pippa’s elven maid, was Kailian’s cousin.  Myfa had grown up in Highever’s Alienage.  Kai had come to Highever almost a year ago, from Denerim, where she had run into difficulties with the Arl’s son.  The four young women established a complex relationship that included friendship.  Kai and Myfanwy traveled with Lys and Pippa to Nevarra, performed as ladies maids, bodyguards, friends and companions.  Kai still pinched herself at her good fortune.  The scuffle in the Denerim Market with Vaughan Kendall could have ended so differently had Lys not intervened.  That a human noble would intervene on behalf of an elf still amazed her.  She loved her life here. She had no desire to return to Denerim.

Lys stopped at the silver merchant’s stall. 

“Kai, didn’t you want a chain for Nelaros’ sister?  For her Name Day?”

Kai had recently met the brother of one of Myfa’s friends.  Lys had noticed and teased her about Nel, but she was right Rhya’s name day was next week.  “I do.  Do we have time to stop now?”

“Of course.  We can stay all day if we wish,” Lys said.  “Pippa, you wanted a chain too, didn’t you?”

While Pippa and Kai pondered over the wide selection, Myfanwy offered to go to the ribbon merchant to purchase the ribbons she knew Pippa wanted.  Lys, fingering her own silver chain and laurel pendant surveyed the nearby vendors.  Seeing a bookseller nearby, Lys wandered over to look at her wares. 

Several interesting maps caught her interest, including one of the Denerim underground.  Like most cities, tunnels honeycombed Denerim.  River water rushed through some, under the wealthier areas, to provide waste removal.  Those tunnels emptied into the Amaranthine Ocean.  Nobles also built escape tunnels from their estates to the waterfront or the city wall.  A few tunnels extended beyond the wall to secret exits outside the city.  Criminal cartels built tunnels to their hideaways, warehouses and the port.  Tunnels even ran under the Royal Palace and Fort Drakon.  Lys had never seen these tunnels mapped. 

She looked at several other maps, then pointing to three, she asked,  “What is your price for each of these?”

“The Map of the Frostbacks is forty silvers, the Coastlands map is twenty seven and the Denerim underground is sixty.  I can offer you a savings if you buy all three, say a sovereign twenty for the lot.”

“Well, the Coastlands map is a copy and a fairly common one at that and the Denerim map is old and worn.  The Frostbacks map is in good condition otherwise, but has a tear.  I can offer ninety silvers.”

“My Lady, I can’t sell at that price.  I need at least a sovereign ten.”

“Still overpriced I think, for their condition.  I think ninety five is as high as I will go.”

“A sovereign and ten.”

“Sorry, I think not.”  Lys started to close the clasp on her coin purse. 

“One sovereign then.”

Ly smiled, “Done.” 

The merchant wrapped her purchases.  She knew Loghain would appreciate the Coastlands map, which was a copy, but a good one.  The other two she would keep. 

As she walked away she noticed a portion of a map peeking out from the bottom of a stack.  The writing she could see said _gil’s Ke_.  She pulled it out.  Like the Denerim map, it recorded tunnels, in this case the tunnels running under the Arl of Amaranthine’s home, Vigil’s Keep.  Although dirty and torn along its folds, it was readable.  _How interesting.  Maybe Nathaniel would like this one day._   She turned back to the merchant.  “Twenty silvers.”

The merchant frowned, but nodded.  Lys handed her the coin and she wrapped the fourth map.

As Lys walked away, she realized her friends had moved on from the silversmith.  As she stood looking for them, Myfanwy came up behind her. 

“Have you seen Kai and Pippa, Myfa?”

“No, I just returned.  They said they would wait here.”

Then they heard faint yelling above the other happier sounds of the fair.  It seemed to be coming from the edge of the fairgrounds just beyond the last row of vendors on their left.  Lys and Myfa hurried through the crowds to find the source of the noise.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

**TRIGGER WARNING BEGINS**

* * *

“You stupid elf, you attacked me in Denerim.  Now that I’ve found you again, you can take your punishment.”

“You can’t do that, Vaughan Kendall.  Leave us alone.”  Pippa jerked her arm from Thomas Howe’s grasp. 

Thomas grinned.  This had worked out better than he had expected.  The Kendalls stayed with the Arl of Higheverport when they visited the city for the Summerday Tourney, so he had rushed over to the Arl’s keep when he saw the elf.  He had managed to catch Vaughan, before he left for the tavern he favored, and told him the news.

“ _The rumor’s true, Vaughan.  That elf that the Cousland bitch took from you is her maid.  They just left for the Fair.  No guards went along.”_

He and Vaughan had hurried to the Fairgrounds just outside the city wall to the north.  They caught sight of Kailian and Pippa Broughten alone at a vendor’s stall.  Thomas had stopped him when he saw the Higheverport Guard patrolling.

“Vaughan, wait.  What if you get a Guard to help you find her?  Tell him the elf is wanted in Denerim.  He can arrest her.”

“I don’t want her arrested.  I want to punish her myself.”

“I know, but you can’t just take her in front of all these people.  This isn’t Denerim.”

Vaughan hesitated.  “Maybe you’re right.  Let’s find a place nearby to use once we do take her.”

They found an empty tent on the edge of the fair grounds.  Then they found a Guard.  Vaughan identified himself and said he had seen a fugitive elf from Denerim.  The Guard, unfamiliar with Vaughan’s reputation, had agreed to help the Arl’s son.  Now Vaughan had his elf and Thomas had Philippa Broughten, the girl his brother loved.

Vaughan looked at Pippa with disbelief.  “Why, Lady Broughten?  She is an elf.  An elf carrying weapons.  An elf that attacked me.” 

“Carrying weapons is perfectly acceptable in Higheverport.  And as I recall, you attacked her.”

“I don’t care.  This elf is from Denerim and is wanted there for assault.”

“You’re a visitor to my father’s Arling, Vaughan.  This is Higheverport, not Denerim.”

“My Lady,” the Guard pleaded, “I need to take the elf to the Guard house where I’ll await the Arl’s decision.  I can’t ignore a serious charge by Lord Kendall, particularly when it’s substantiated by Lord Howe.”

“Of course you can.  You do know who Kailian is, Guard.”

The Guardsman looked confused.  “An elf, My Lady.  An elf wanted in Denerim according to Lord Kendall.”

“An elf, as you say, in service to the Teyrn!”  Pippa snapped.  “You’ll answer to him and my father for this.”

Kai stood quietly, using all her restraint not to pull her knives and attack Kendall and Howe.  “Lady Broughten, let it go.  I’ll go to the Guard House.  I don’t want a scene here.  As long as I’m in the custody of your father’s Guards and not Lords Kendall or Howe I’ll be fine.  You can tell Lady Cousland where I am.”

“You’ll be in my custody soon enough, elf.”  Kendall muttered, adding more clearly.  “I want to go along and make sure the Arl’s daughter won’t free her once we walk away.”  He grabbed Kai’s arms.  “Thom, search her for knives.  He smiled as he bound her wrists with a thong he pulled from her tunic, leaving it gaping open in the front.

“Stop it,” Pippa shouted, as Kai began to struggle.  She fingered the throwing knife on her belt.   _I have my knives, but I can’t get both of them.  I’m not sure I can hit one._   _Lys wouldn’t hesitate if that were me.  Neither would Kai, but I can’t._

Thomas Howe reached into Kailian’s boots and took her knives, then slowly began to run his hand up her left leg.  Kai kicked him, but only connected with his thigh.

“See, she’s a menace.”  Vaughan yelled, punching her in the stomach and pushing her to the ground as she doubled over.  Thom continued his search.  He ran his hands up her left leg to the top of her thigh, then he let his fingers slide up her right thigh.  Kia struggled, but in vain. 

“Nothing, Vaughan.”

“Here now,” the Guard protested, “that’s not right, even if she is an elf.”  Pippa stood horrified, thinking she should run to get help, but terrified to leave Kai.

“You’ll disagree, if she stabs you on your way to the Guardhouse and gets away.”  Kendall replied.  He whispered to Thomas  “Howe, grab the Arl’s bitch before she runs off.  The last thing we want is Cousland finding us.”

Thomas stood and grabbed Pippa’s arms.  “You’re the bitch my brother wanted to marry.”  He laughed.  “He should live so long.”  Standing behind her he ran his hands over Pippa’s breasts and down her front leaving, suddenly hugging her close to him, his hands well below her waist, massaging.  She whimpered as she realized Vaughan had turned on the Guard.  The man lay unconscious on the ground.  

“Let’s get them to the tent, Howe.  We can have our fun and not be disturbed.  I have the elf gagged.  You better stun yours.  Don’t want her screaming.”

Pippa started to scream, but the dagger’s pommel came down hard and she crumpled against Thomas Howe.”

They dragged the young women to the empty tent.  Vaughan started to tear open Kai’s tunic.  “You do know that is the Arl of Higheverport's daughter,” Vaughan warned Howe. 

Thom grinned, “I do.  This bitch wanted to marry Nathaniel.  It will be my pleasure to take his woman.”

Lys stood outside the tent, listening.  The Guard lay on the ground.  She had arrived in time to see Thom Howe dragging Pippa into the tent.  She pulled her throwing knives and thought, ‘ _Thank you Zed’,_ as she slipped into the tent through the front flap.  Staying in the shadows, she let her eyes become accustomed to the dimness. 

Both young men were intent on their prey.  Kai lay struggling as Kendall pulled her tunic open.  He backhanded her as Lys watched.  Howe had begun to loosen Pippa’s belt and push up her long tunic.  Still unconscious, Pippa was unaware of his explorations.

As much as she wanted to kill them both, Lys knew disabling them, then bringing the Guard would be better.  She aimed her throwing knife at Kendall’s shoulder, threw and heard him cry out.  Howe looked up in alarm, as she quickly moved behind Kendall and grabbed his hair, pulling his head back and holding a dagger to his throat.

“Call off your pet, Kendall, or I may reconsider my decision to let you live.”

Kendall stiffened.  “Cousland.”

“Call him off, now.”  Her blade nicked his throat.  “You see, Kai is my friend.  Pippa is my friend.  You are not my friend.  Call him off.”

“Thom, back off.”

“What!  I have my knife.  I can get her or slit this one’s….”

“You can’t kill the Arl’s daughter Howe, even I know that.”

Thomas looked up angrily, then dropped his hand from Pippa’s neck.

“Now move away from her Howe.  Do it, or I’ll have to kill Kendall to come after you.  It will be just you and me.  Do you like those odds, Thomas?  I assure you no one will fault me for killing him.”  She nicked Vaughan again. 

“Please Thom, move away.  She’s crazy.  She’ll kill us both and get away with it.  Remember the duel.  Just run.”

Thom moved away from Pippa, dropping the knife.  He looked around him, then ran to the exit, only to be met by Teyrn Loghain.  “Howe?  What’s going on here?”

Thomas started to whine, “The Cousland bitch.  She attacked us with her friends.’

“Grab him, Teyrn Loghain.  He hurt Pippa.”

Loghain grabbed the boy. 

“We need to bind Kendall and Howe until the Guards come.  Did you see Myfa?  I sent her for the guard.”

Loghain helped Lys bind the boys’ wrists and ankles.  “Yes.  I heard Myfanwy yelling for the guard.  They’re on their way.  I’m glad I came in time.”

Once Howe and Kendall were secure, he released Kai who immediately joined Lys at Pippa’s side.  She remained unconscious.

“At least they didn’t get the chance to really hurt us,” Kai said. 

“What!  You’re only 'really hurt' if they rape you?  You’re bruised and Pippa’s unconscious.  Just how do you define really hurt, Kai?”

Kai frowned, surprised at Lys’ outburst.  “I guess it’s my perspective.  Getting back alive from something like this was a good thing, in the Alienage.”

“Maker’s Eardrums, how often did this happen?”  Loghain asked.

“Whenever Kendall felt like it.  Howe and others joined him, but Kendall was always the leader.”

Loghain glared at Kendall.  “This will be the last time you try this, boy.” 

Arl Urien Kendall, Arl Rendon Howe, Teryn Bryce Cousland and Arl Philip Broughten all entered the tent along with a contingent of Higheverport Guards.  

“What have you done to my son?”  Urien shouted.

“Not the question you should be asking Kendall.  Your son and Howe, here, attacked Pippa Broughten and Kailian Tabris.  Pippa remains unconscious.”  Loghain replied.

Arl Broughten hurried over to his daughter.  “I sent Myfanwy for a healer,” the Arl assured Lys.

“Loghain,” Howe said, “I didn’t expect to find you here.  I thought the Cousland girl had attacked the two boys again.”

“No, Rendon, Lys attacked no one.  She defended her friends from the attacks of your son and Kendall.  When I arrived both girls were bound, hand and foot and the boys were undressing and attacking them.”

“She’s just an elf.”  Arl Urien Kendall scoffed.

“And Pippa?”  Loghain asked, sighing and knowing that arguing with the Arl would accomplish nothing.  They would have to wait for the trial.

“Well, that is far more serious,” Arl Urien conceded, “but Vaughan was nowhere near her.  Thomas must have hurt the Arl’s daughter.”

“Enough!”  Teyrn Cousland said.  “Both boys will be taken to the Guard post.  In Highever, we do not tolerate this kind of behavior regardless of the victim’s race or station.  Assault and attempted rape will not be ignored simply because the perpetrators are noble.  Guards, take the boys and put them in separate cells.”

“You can’t do that,” Urien objected. 

“I can and I will.”  Bryce replied.  “They’ll receive a fair hearing,  but they will be tried.

“Bryce, I’m sure we can handle this quietly,” Howe suggested.  “There is no need for cells.  We can simply keep them in their rooms.”

“In the castle, Howe?  Or the Keep.  Near my daughter?  Near Pippa or Kailian, the women they attacked?  For that matter, near your daughter?  I think not.”

The Guards led the two boys to the Guard House in the West Gate where they found clean, if simple accommodations in separate cells.

* * *

**END TRIGGER WARNING**

**9:25 Dragon  ===  2 Bloomingtide,  Highever**

The Arl of Highever received the Teyrns, the Arls and the two boys in his Hall.  Since his daughter had been one of the victims, he deferred to Teyrn Cousland to hear the evidence and pass judgment.

“And how will Teyrn Cousland be impartial?”  Arl Urien challenged.  “The elf is in his employ.”

Bryce and Loghain had anticipated this objection from one of the Arls. 

“I can preside, if that will satisfy you,” Teyrn Loghain offered.

“I’m not sure you are any less biased, “ Arl Howe complained.  “Everyone knows you dote on the Cousland girl.  The elf is her maid.”

Loghain didn’t get a chance to reply. 

“Well Rendon.  Urien.  You’ve disqualified the Arl and both of Ferelden’s Teyrns.  It seems no Ferelden will satisfy you.  Perhaps we should bring in Empress Celene?  One of the Grand Dukes?  King Pentaghast?  The Queen of Antiva?  A Tevinter Magister?”  The familiar voice came from the Hall’s entrance.  “Or will I do?”

“Your Majesty! “  Arl Broughten bowed and indicated King Maric should sit in on the dais.  The two Arls looked at each other.  They could not object to the King.

King Maric proceeded to the dais, followed by Crown Prince Cailan, who went to stand beside the two Teyrns.

Bryce whispered to Loghain, “Did you know he would be here?”

Loghain chuckled.  “No, but it’s beautiful to see.  Even Howe can’t complain now.”

King Maric looked at the two Arls.  “Your boys have something of a reputation in Denerim, particularly, yours Urien.  It exceeds the one you established.  I’ve had numerous complaints from the Hahren of the Alienage and many Denerim Market merchants about their behavior.  Now they not only attack an elf, but a young noble woman?”  He turned to the Vaughan and Thomas, “What do you have to say for yourselves.  Did the young woman or elf attack you?”

Thomas shifted from one foot to the other.  “No, Your Majesty, not here in Highever.”

“Not here?”

“She attacked Vaughan in Denerim, then when he tried to apprehend her, she ran away.”

“She escaped?  Lord Vaughan, how and when did Kailian Tabris attack you?”

“In the Alienage.  I was speaking to a few other elves and she attacked me.”

“Just like that.  No provocation?”

“She’s a wild woman, Your Majesty.  Just like her mother.”

“Her mother?”

“Her mother died in rebellion against the Guards, Your Majesty.”  Arl Urien said.

“So this was revenge?  When did her mother die?”

“Many years ago, Your Majesty.  The girl would have been a child,” Urien continued to explain

“So, Vaughan was not involved in the mother’s death?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

“So, not revenge, then.  Vaughan, what weapon did she use when she attacked you?”

“Her fists, Your Majesty.”

“So I am to understand that Kailian Tabris, a slender elf who barely reaches your shoulder, attacked you with her fists, unprovoked, in the Alienage while you carried on casual conversation with other elves.  Somehow, I find that image incongruous.  Is it possible you were convincing a friend of Mistress Tabris to come with you and her friend resisted?”

Vaughan didn’t answer. 

“The Guards will have a record of this violent attack, of course?”

Arl Urien spoke instead.  “We don’t report incidents in the Alienage to the Guards, Your Majesty.  It’s a waste of their time.  We handle such incidents directly.”

Maric glared.  “Directly?  I think we will have to discuss your methods, Urien, upon our return.  It seems conditions may be worse than I realized.”  He turned to Vaughan.  “So, Vaughan, not reported?  No guards.”

Vaughan shook his head.

“And you Lord Howe, you witnessed this…conversation…in the Alienage?”

“No, Your Majesty.  I did not.”

“So, you’re only repeating Lord Kendall’s…story.”

“I have no reason to think its untrue, Your Majesty.”

“I do,” Cailan spoke out. 

King Maric looked at his son, surprised.  “Go ahead Cailan.”

“I’ve never gone with Kendall to the Alienage, but I’ve heard him tell of his…conquests.  He takes elven girls to his father’s Denerim Estate to entertain him and his friends.  Entertainment includes getting them forcibly drunk, then raping them.  They threaten one girl to get the others to do what they want.  He’s bragged about the number of elves he’s…taken.  That’s his word for it.” 

Kendall glared furiously at Cailan.  Thomas Howe, although younger, only stared, expressionless.

“Lady Melysande’s maid did attack him in the Alienage, with her fists, to stop him taking a friend of hers.  As he told it, she jumped on his back, hung on with her legs and began beating him about the head.  He swore he would punish her for it.  He spoke about it several times while we were out drinking at the Pearl and the Gnawed Noble.”

Maric gave Cailan a nod.  “Thank you, Cailan.  I’ve heard similar stories, but not directly from Lords Kendall or Howe.  As it happens, I spoke with Lady Cousland, Teyrn Loghain, Lady Broughten, the two young elven women and the Guard attached by Lords Kendall and Howe yesterday.  From these conversations, I can only conclude that the attack on the Higheverport Guard, Kailian Tabris and Lady Philippa Broughten was unprovoked, planned and vicious.  I have a punishment in mind.

“Lord Vaughan Kendall and Lord Thomas Howe I banish you each from Denerim, Amaranthine and Higheverport for a period of five years.  If either of you so much approach the gates of those cities or enter an Alienage during that time, you will be arrested and held in Ft. Drakon for the remainder of that term.  I further order you, Arl Howe, and you, Arl Kendall, to send these boys to squire with suitable houses in Ferelden or elsewhere, under close supervision, for seven years.  Urien, your son should have been squiring in a suitable household three years ago.  Their behavior as squires will determine whether I allow them to achieve Knighthood, receive their inheritance and marry, or be exiled from Ferelden permanently.  Any further incidents and they will be in Ft. Drakon for a long time and inherit nothing.

“I will review and approve the squiring plans before you send them away.  In the meantime, I expect both boys to reside with Arl Howe at Vigil’s Keep under the supervision.  They will remain in custody with the Higheverport Guard until you arrange to transport them to the Vigil, Rendon.  They will not leave the Vigil or visit any other Fereldan city or town.  I will provide Royal Guards to oversee them at Vigil’s Keep and to ensure these conditions are met.  Are there any questions?”  He looked at the two Arls.

“No, Your Majesty,”  Arl Howe responded.  “It shall be as you order.”

“Arl Kendall?”

“No, Your Majesty, no questions.”

“Arl Broughten, have you any questions?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

King Maric stood.  “I’ll return control of your Keep to you, Arl Philip.  Guards, return these two to their cells.”  With that the king strode out of the Hall with Prince Cailan.  The Arls stood stunned. 

“Well, that was a surprise.”  Arl Howe finally said.  Smiling at his liege, he said to Bryce, “It was clear even you and Teyrn Loghain didn’t know His Majesty was joining us.  I hope the boys learn from this.  Come along Kendall.  Let’s arrange for the boys to go to the Vigil.”

“I wonder what he wants them to learn?”  Teyrn Bryce said.

“Not to get caught, I suspect,” Teyrn Loghain replied. 

“Or at least not when the King is present.  Neither of us could have imposed that strong a punishment.”  Teyrn Bryce smiled.  “Cailan did well today too.”

Loghain smiled.  “Yes, standing up for the right thing, not his sometime friends.”

“You and Maric should let him know you’re proud of him, Loghain.”

**9:25 Dragon  ===  3 Bloomingtide,  Highever**

“You did what!”  Lys yelled.  “No.  No, that is not right.  Why should you be punished for what happened?”

Kai put her bow on the arms rack.  “I withdrew from the Tourney, Lys.  My participation will only cause more problems.  Quite honestly, I won’t be at my best.  And I want to win, not just show up.”

“You could have discussed it with me first.”

“No, you would have yelled, just like you are now, and talked me into staying in.”

“I would not.  I said discuss.”

“You’re yelling now.”

“I am speaking loudly.  I stopped yelling after the first outburst.”

Kai tried hard not to smile at the younger girl.  “I discussed it with Fergus.  He’s calmer.”

Lys scowled, but her mouth quirked up on one side.  “Can’t argue with that, Kai.  I still wish you had spoken with both of us.”

“Probably should have.  Sorry.”

“I am too.  Andraste’s Bountiful Bosoms.  You would have won.  You will enter the next one.  There’s the fall festival in August, when we get back from the Landsmeet.  You can enter that.  It will be good practice.  Maybe we’ll both enter.  I’ll be your incentive.”

“Incentive for what?  I know I’ll beat you.”

Lys’ eyes narrowed.  “Maybe.  Maybe not.  Maybe I’ll start practicing again.  I used to be good.”

“You’ll beat me at archery and blades?  This I have to see.”

“Maybe you will Kai Tabris.”  Lys grinned.  “It will be good for both of us.”

She walked over to her friend and enveloped her in a hug.  “Kai, I’m so glad you’re here and safe now and my friend.”

Kai, although used to Lys’ hugs by now, stood still for a moment then hugged Lys back.  “Me too,” she mumbled.

**9:25 Dragon  ===  5 Bloomingtide,  Highever**

Pippa, Kai and Myfa sat in the Castle Cousland garden.  No one wanted to leave the safety of the castle, although they knew Vaughan and Thomas had been taken to Vigil’s Keep two days ago.  Pippa and Myfanwy had four guards with them when they walked the short distance from the Keep to Castle Cousland, a walk they had often taken alone in the past.  Kai had fewer inhibitions about being alone, but she had taken to wearing armor and blades every day. 

Lys joined her friends wearing her own armor and blades.  “Can I convince you to walk down to the cliffs?  I’ll have my blades, as will Kai.  We’ll take your guardsmen, Pip.”

Pippa frowned.  “Is this an ‘it’s for your own good’ effort, Melysande?”

“Partly, but to be honest, mostly it’s just because it’s a lovely day.  I need to walk Sherpa.  I’d like company.”  She looked at her three friends.  “Look, I’ll get Sherpa and you think about it.  If you don’t want to, I’ll walk her and you can stay here.”

“You’re not going off alone,” Kai admonished. 

“Well, I am if you all are staying here.  I’ll have a guard with me.  Papa’s made it clear that until the Tourney ends, a guard is required.  I’m not fighting him on this.”  She headed to the kennels and returned with Sherpa.

“Maker!  Get off me you crazy hound,” Kai yelled as the puppy leaped up on her to lick her cheeks.  “Alright.  Alright.  I’m coming with you.”

“Looks like you’ve made a friend Kailian, “ Myfa giggled. 

Kai grinned.  “I have.  That damn hound greets me like a long lost kennel mate every time she sees me.  It’s not so bad.  Once Lys trains her, she’ll be fine.”

“Hey, she’s only been with me for a week.”  She clapped and Sherpa looked at her.  “Sit.” 

Sherpa sat, her rear still wiggling a bit, but on the ground.

“Good girl.”  Lys gave her a treat.  “Coming or not?”

“Coming,” said Pippa.  “You have a point about not being a prisoner in our own homes.”

“Me too,” Myfa agreed.

“Great.  The guard is waiting at the postern.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .________________________________________  
>  A/N2: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. As a new author, I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her efforts. She sorted out Eleanor’s Ladies in Waiting among other things this time. She always improves flow and clarity of the chapters. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and those who Reviewed this week: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, EasternViolet, nh09jrb, katdancer2 and SnowHelm I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. It helps me keep going, knowing others enjoy Lys, Alistair, Loghain, Anora and the company too.
> 
> There are appendices with background assumptions on timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. in AO3. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure (remove spaces and copy): archive of our /works/692656/chapters/1273563


	32. The Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:25 Dragon Bloomingtide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

 “Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 32 – THE PROMISE**

* * *

**9:25 Dragon   6 Bloomingtide  ===  Highever**

King Maric and Teyrn Loghain often stayed, after the Summerday Tourney ended, to enjoy the warm Highever summer and a rare break from the incessant demands and worries of Court.  Unlike Funalis and Wintersend, no Landsmeet loomed after the end of the Tourney.  Unlike Satinalia or First Day, no winter weather threatened, urging nobles and commoners alike to rush home to warm hearths.  Both men enjoyed the escape from Denerim’s summer humidity and storms.  They both enjoyed the company of the Couslands and particularly Eleanor and Bryce’s youngest, although Teyrn Loghain had spent more time with the Lys than had King Maric over the years. 

Early one Bloomingtide morning, King Maric, Teyrn Loghain and Lys rode companionably along the beach towards the surprise she had promised them. 

“The cave is ahead,” Lys promised,  “just across the Star River.  We’ll need to ride back up to the cliff top on the far side, tether the horses and then climb down to the ledge.”  Grinning at Loghain, she teased,  “Do you think you can manage it, old man?”

“Watch that, young woman,” King Maric cautioned with a grin.  “King here.  I am older than Loghain.  That must be Lèse-majesté or something equally grave.”

Lys flushed, “I didn’t know that, Your Majesty.  You look so young, I thought Loghain must be your senior.  Of course, I never doubted you could make the climb.”

“Of course, you think he’s young.  It’s the blond hair and bland expression,” snorted Loghain.

“Bland!  My expression is bland?  I suppose that means wrinkle free.”  King Maric winked at Lys.

“Wrinkles are a sign of thoughtful intelligence.  Not to mention, it will be a cold day in Seheron, before you best me, Maric.  You’re training time diminishes as your age increases,” Loghain scoffed.  “What are we climbing down to see, Lady Cousland?”

“That is the surprise, of course.  I’m not spoiling it.”

Loghain gave his young friend his best glare.  She giggled. 

King Maric laughed, “Loghain, you’ve lost your power, when that glare causes a lovely young woman to giggle.”

“I know.  Fierce young women and mabari puppies find me non-threatening.  It’s demoralizing.  I can’t recall that last time I intimidated Lys, or Anora, for that matter.”

“That might make Cailan feel better.  I think he’s learning Anora has the upper hand with him as well, at least where the wedding is concerned.”

“Oh no, no wedding talk now.  Lys, take us to this cave.”

Laughing she led the two men to the top of the cliff where they secured the horses.  “It’s just here.”  She peered down into an opening several yards behind the cliff’s edge.  You can only get to the beach below by boat.  See, from this opening there’s a path down to that wide ledge which overlooks the beach and rocks.  It’s not even a real cave.  More like a deep depression in the cliff face.  You can see quite well from there.  It is possible to go all the way down, but that’s wet, sandy, requires a rope and it riles the natives.”

“Then we should stay on the ledge.  I think it’s best if we don’t rile any natives,” said Maric.  “I don’t need to prove I can defeat a riled native in battle.  I could, of course.  It is known.  My prowess with riled natives has been proven many times.  This is why it’s not necessary to prove it again.”

Lys giggled again.  “You’re babbling, Your Majesty.”

King Maric hit his fist against his chest.  “You wound me my lady.  Babbling indeed.  I do not babble.  I rile.  At least when I chose to, I rile.” 

“I must agree, Maric, you excel at riling.  Think how riled your Guard would be when they had to climb down and save you,” added Loghain dryly looking back to where the King’s guard waited.  “And you are babbling…Your Majesty.”

“Ah, well I know when you call me ‘Your Majesty’, I’m in trouble.”  Maric winked at Lys.  “Fine.  Let’s go to the ledge and view these unriled natives.” 

The three climbed down and settled on the sheltered ledge.  Its wide mouth afforded a clear view of the many elephant seals[1] on the beach, fifteen or more feet below and in the water beyond.  Some elephant seals slept, some flipped sand on themselves, some trumpeted and fought, not always playfully, others slid into the water to feed, pups suckled, and other elephant seals undulated back onto the beach. 

“Elephant Seals.  Of course!  We saw them from a distance on the beach once before.”  Loghain recalled.

Lys experienced a pang of regret, then anger.  _He should be here too_.  She glanced at the King but he and Loghain were fascinated by the seals.  She took a deep breathe.  _It wouldn’t do to scream at the king,_ she reminded herself, although she had one promised Alistair to do just that.  _At least I’ve learned to contain my impulses_.  Loghain was still speaking, as she felt her anger fade.

“They are huge,” Loghain observed.  “I didn’t realize how much larger than sea lions they are.”

“And they are fast in the water,” King Maric added.  He looked at Lys, puzzled at her silence.  “How long do they stay underwater, Lys?”

“A long time,” Lys replied calmly, after taking a deep breath.  “It’s hard to track them.  They stay under so long and move so quickly.  Fergus and I brought fish with us once and fed them.  They were so noisy, barking at us for more.  Fergus and I thought they were going to climb up here and attack us.  We didn’t try it again.

In Cumberland, I’ve seen trained sea lions at the Grand Tourney Fair.  They balanced balls on their noses and jumped through hoops.  The show was in a park with a deep pool.  The sea lions performed in the pool, too.  It was rather sad to see them used that way.  Elephant seals won’t allow themselves to be domesticated like that.” 

Lys noticed King Maric rub his arms.  Loghain, who had worn a light cloak, pulled it more securely around his shoulders.

“Well, I’m getting chilled,” Lys conceded, after they had watched the seals for a time.  “It’s hard to stay down here long.  It’s too cool, with the wind off the Waking Sea and the dampness.  I thought we’d ride back by Star Lake and eat there.  Unless you need to go back directly?”

“Are we swimming?” the Teyrn asked.

“Well, if you want to, Teyrn Loghain, but no I hadn’t planned to.  I haven’t been out to the island for a long time, actually.”  She took another deep breath and then grinned.  “I can re-enact the Death of the Wolf, however.  I do have my bow.  Would either of you volunteer to be the Wolf?”

“That, my dear, could be construed as a threat to the King’s body.”  King Maric teased.

“I don’t think so, Your Majesty.  I asked for a volunteer.”

“Ah, splitting hairs.  Your training with the merchant bank shows.  Perhaps I’ll volunteer Loghain.”

They laughed as they climbed back out of the cavern. 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Once they returned to the Castle, Teyrn Loghain and King Maric went to meet with Teyrn Bryce.  After their conference, Loghain found he had considerable time left before he needed to meet Bryce, Maric and Cailan for dinner.  He decided to head to the kennels to visit Hap.  When he arrived, he found Anora playing with Happenstance.

“Father, I thought I would visit this mabari of yours.  He is quite handsome.”

Loghain crouched to let Hap attack his knees.  Anora settled onto the bench against the kennel wall. 

“Did you expect this?”

“No, I brought three pups in hopes one would imprint on Lys.  I expected to return the other two.  Maric will never let me hear the end of this.  Probably accuse me of stealing his best pup.”

“Well, perhaps you have.  Why give Lys Cousland a mabari, anyway?  Certainly the Teyrn can afford to provide her with one.”

“I wanted to, Anora.  King Maric agreed and offered one from the Royal Kennels.  It’s a joint gift really, from both of us.”  He sat playing with Hap for a while before he added, “Why do you dislike her?”

“I don’t dislike her, Father; I just think she acts like an over-indulged and willful child.  Five years ago her behavior was more appropriate – her sparring, riding, playing at business.  Now she should be betrothed and preparing for her life as a wife and mother.  Instead, she continues childish behavior.  She wraps her father, you, even the King around her little finger.

Eleanor finds her difficult.  Oriana thinks she is spoiled.  All this arms training, trips to Nevarra pretending she’s a merchant banker or could be.  Some poor man will find her a difficult wife.”

Loghain chuckled.

“You find my comments funny, father?”

“Lys is fifteen, Anora.  You could be describing yourself at fifteen.  Would you have been happy as the wife of some bann?”

“I was not like her at fifteen,” Anora objected, insulted.  “I had much more dignity and courtesy.  I was your daughter and the betrothed of Prince Cailan; of course I had higher aspirations.  Appropriately so.  Nor did I use my wiles to trick men into doing my bidding.”

“She is also a Teyrn’s daughter.  Why should her aspirations be less?  Different, naturally, but why less?  Teyrna Eleanor works with the Guilds and Nevarran merchant house.  Lys follows her mother.  In addition, you imply she is a flirt, but criticize her for not entertaining suitors at fifteen.  You honestly think Lys use her wiles on me?  Or Maric?  That’s not so.  We simply enjoy her company.

Does she use her wiles, as you call them, with her father?  Probably, just as you do to me.  That’s a father’s role, Anora.  And she gets along quite well with both her mother and Oriana.  I think you exaggerate their problems with Lys.  She's fifteen.  You judge her as if she was your peer.  She’s still young.”

“She bears watching.  Look what she did to Howe and Kendall.”

“What she did!  Anora, those two boys were about to rape Lys’ lady’s maid, Kailian, and the Arl of Higheverport’s daughter, Philippa.  What Lys did was exercise restraint in simply disabling them until the Guard could arrive.”

Anora frowned.  “But, Arl Urien-“

“-is an idiot who lets his son run amok in the Denerim Alienage.  Anora, Vaughan Kendall is a sick young man.  Thomas Howe is on his way to becoming another if he continues to run with Kendall.  I can’t believe you condone kidnapping and raping young elven girls.”

“No, of course not.  I didn’t realize.”

“No reason you should.  We purposely kept the events quiet for the benefit of Kailian and Philippa.  But Lys did nothing wrong and everything right to save her friends.  She could easily have killed Vaughan Kendall.  I’m not sure I wouldn’t have at her age or now, even.  I’m sorry you dislike her so much.”  Loghain sighed.  “I hoped you and she would be friends.  I thought she might learn from you and provide you with a sounding board.  She’s quite intelligent and thoughtful.  I’m sorry you feel as you do.” 

“Perhaps I don’t know her as well as I should.”  Anora conceded.  “She can be quite agreeable at times, it’s true.  And she conducts herself well at her mother’s salons.  Eleanor is particularly dear to me, and she is her daughter.  She must have some of her mother in her.  Perhaps I should reconsider my opinion.  And you’re right, of course, her marriage choices in Ferelden are limited.  If she is so talented as a banker, however, maybe she should go to Nevarra and find a husband there.”

He petted Hap, as he put him back in the pen, “Perhaps she will, Anora, although I think she hopes for a different future.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

After he father put Hap back in the run and left, Anora sat quietly watching the three pups play.  Her father had been truly angry, then disappointed in her.  If she was honest with herself, she would admit her feelings about Lys were clouded by other disappointments unrelated to the girl.  Anora remained lost in thought as Fergus approached.

“Anora.”

“Fergus?”

“I came to see the pups.  You did as well?  Or were you trying for the third to imprint on you?”

Anora laughed.  “Only to see them.  Father just left.”

“Yes, I passed him.  He said you were still here.”

They watched the pups for a while. 

“Do you mind if I let them out again?”

Anora shook her head.  “No, go ahead.”  She sat quietly as Fergus unlatched the gate to the run and let the three pups into the yard.  They tumbled over each other rushing to get through the gate.  Hap trotted over to greet Anora.

“It appears he knows you’re his sister,” Fergus teased.

“Yes you do know that don’t you Happenstance?”  Anora scratched Hap under his chin.  He gave a pleased bark and joined his brother and sister.  “I was thinking.  Father said some disturbing things…about me.  He thinks I’m too hard on your sister.”

“She is growing up, Anora.  I know you don’t care for her, but you should know, she rather admires you.  She says strong women inspire her.”

“I inspire her?”

“You do.  Your smart, beautiful, strong-

“-that’s enough, Fergus.”

He chuckled.  “Still can’t take compliments though.  The appropriate response is, thank ‘you kind sir.’  ” 

Anora frowned.  “Fergus Cousland, you are married with a son and I am betrothed to Prince Cailan.  This conversation is-“

-a simple conversation between old friends, Anora.  Friends.  For the record, I love my wife, who also admires and likes you.”

“I see.  I…she is lovely Fergus.  You are a lucky man and I hope you know it.”

He smiled.  “I do.  I also think you sometimes need a friend.  I know Cailan can be…difficult.”

Anora gave a very unladylike snort.  “Difficult.  I care for him Fergus, but he can be such a fool.  He’s twenty now, he should have a purpose beyond drinking  and…other amusements.”

“You’re right.  And you can provide him with one, if you would only approach him differently.  He can be a fool, but he can also step up and do the right thing.  You know he spoke up about  Vaughan Kendall’s treatment of elves at the trial?”

“Cailan did?”

“Father said he spoke well.  He did it on his own, apparently.  Surprised the king.”

“Well, this is a day for surprises.  Good for him.”  She noticed Fergus raised eyebrow.  “No, truly, I wouldn’t have expected that.  He hasn’t-

“-participated with Vaughan.  No.  Drinking yes.  Upscale brothels, yes.  Not raids into the alienage.”

“You speak very…openly, Fergus.”

“I speak as a friend, Anora.  You need to think about how you treat him.  He doesn’t respond well to orders.  He needs…herding.”

Anora looked startled then, uncharacteristically, giggled.  “Herding?”

“Yes.  Have you ever seen the sheep dogs herding sheep?”

“You’re comparing Cailan to a sheep?”  She covered her mouth with her palm as she giggled again.

“No.  I’m saying he needs an intelligent person around him to guide him, advise him, point him to a few options, focus him, but gently.  Nip at his heels, but not too often.”

Anora frowned, and became more serious.  “Are you suggesting I am not gentle?”

“With Cailan?  It’s not a suggestion.  You are not gentle.  You order him about.  He resents it and reacts in a childish way – by doing the opposite of what you suggest.  He resists anyone who orders him about.  He needs to be nudged, gently, not ordered.  Believe me, I’ve had years of experience as his companion.”

“This is why you were looking for me?  To tell me how to handle Cailan?”

Fergus sighed.  “No.  I wanted to see if you were enjoying yourself here.  You so rarely visit.  And I wanted to ask you to have supper with Oriana and me tonight in our rooms.  A gesture of friendship, If you will.”

“With Cailan?”

“No.  He’s having supper with Loghain, the king and father.  And, no, I don’t know exactly why.  Oriana and I thought you might like a break from the formal dinners and suppers.  She’s with Oren and sent me to find you.  Ow!”  Fergus looked down to see the tan male mabari nipping at his ankle.  “Stop that.” 

The mabari sat, looking up at him with deep brown eyes.  His right paw leaned on Fergus’ leg.  He whined. 

“I think you have a friend Fergus.”  Anora chuckled.  “Perhaps Hap won’t have company on the ride back.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Anora.  I’ve tried to have a mabari imprint on me more times than I can count.  It’s never happened.”

The tan male leaped up trying to reach Fergus’ lap. 

“Well, whatever time this is, it’s the charm.”

“If I thought it possible, I’d think Lys and Kai bribed him to do this.”

“Fergus, that’s not possible.”

Fergus leaned down, picked up the pup and settled it on his lap.  The pup sighed, stuck his nose in the crook of Fergus’ arm and promptly fell asleep as the Kennel Master, Sean, walked into the kennel yard. 

“Lord Fergus, it seems you finally have your mabari.”

Fergus flushed.  “It seems so.  I didn’t plan this, Sean.”

“That’s the best way, My Lord.  He’s a fine boy.  You and your son will enjoy him.”  Fergus grinned at thought of Oren growing up beside the pup.

“So what will you name him?  Happenstance is taken.” 

He thought for only a moment.  “Jadyn”

“Jadyn?”

“Jadyn was the first Cousland we know anything about.  His farmstead, well the cellar hole, is over by the coast just to the northwest of here.”

Kennel Master Sean pointed to the other two pups that had already fallen asleep in their run.  “They’re all tired.  Just put him in with these two when you’re ready to leave.  Come back in the morning .  You, the Teyrn and Lady Lys can train them together.”

“I would like to join you and Oriana for dinner, Fergus,” Anora said returning to their original conversation.  “Thank you.”  She stood and looked out over the practice yard to the mountains beyond.  “I should have come here with father more often.  It’s so lovely.  You mother is always so kind to me.”  She smiled sadly, remembering a walk along the sea cliffs and a kiss.  She had stopped coming to Highever after that.

Fergus guessed at her thoughts.  “It was a long time ago, Anora.  We were young.”

“And you were so handsome and kind and so…not Cailan.  Not a child, not a prince….”

Fergus chuckled.  “Well, Cailan would have been what, twelve at the time.  The difference between Cailan at twelve and us at fifteen was much greater than that between him at twenty and you at twenty-three, Anora.  So much has changed for all of us since then.”

“Well, yes.  You’re married with a son and I’m planning my wedding.  And I’m much…fonder of Cailan now than I was seven years ago.  Still, you and Melysande are very fortunate, not to have had your entire life planned for you with no say in the matter.”

“We know that, Anora.”  He stared off toward the sea.  “You take it out on Lys don’t you?  You think she has all the freedoms you never did; and your father’s friendship to boot.  She’d never hurt you Anora.”

Anora sat quietly and looked at her hands, folded in her lap.  “I do envy her, Fergus.  Family, friends, travel, choices.  All things I never had or lost.”

“Your father adores you.  He’d do anything you asked.”

“Except end the betrothal.”  Anora said very quietly, then looked at Fergus.  “I asked.  He said no.  That Maric wanted it.  That Rowan had wanted it.  They always come first for him.  Yes, he loves me, but if Maric says I need you, he leaves me behind just as he left my mother.  I’ve had to be strong and firm in my beliefs to stand up to him.  He thinks he knows best.  Some things are not negotiable with him.  For you and Lys, I think most things are.”

“I…you asked Teyrn Loghain?  Did  he ask why?”

“No.  He never knew why. I think he imagined I was scared.  I didn’t explain. No one knew, did they?  Not even your mother.”

“No.  I don’t think they did.  Better that way.”  Fergus smiled.  “You’ll make a superb queen, you know.”

“I’ll try.  It’s all I have really.  It may be in spite of Cailan though.  He still seems so much younger than we are.  More than the three years that separates us.”

“It hasn’t worked out as well for you as it has for me.”  Fergus replied, acknowledging her struggles.  “As it might for Lys.”

“Yes, Alistair.  I’ve met him.”

“So we understand.  You visit with your father?”

“Yes, I visit the Girls School.  I want to sponsor more non-noble girls and perhaps boys, in Cailan’s name of course.  Dragon’s Peak is already endowed by the Crown.  King Maric did that many years ago, but so much more could be done.  I think education is important.  Well, you understand that.  All your people here in Highever are educated.  Even your elves.  We should try to do that in the Denerim Alienage.”

“I’d be happy to help.  Let you know what we do here.  We include our people in our decisions, by the way.  Just let me know.”

“Maybe I can convince King Maric to let Cailan and I work with you.  It would be good if we both assumed some responsibilities, even before the wedding.  Cailan doesn’t have any now.  Well nothing significant, just the occasional show the Mabari banner sort of thing.  And Alistair too, if he’s living in Denerim.”

“So Maric will acknowledge him?”

“That’s his plan.  Alistair, he’s a fine boy, well young man now.”  She smiled somewhat ruefully.  “He was not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“A cruder version of Cailan, I suppose.  Rude, not overly bright….”  She noticed Fergus’ raised eyebrow.  “Not that Cailan is stupid, he’s just not…quick.  Alistair is…quick.  I quite like him, actually.  I think I would enjoy having him live at Gwaren House, should father decide to foster him.”

“You’d like a younger brother of sorts?”

“Yes, well specifically Alistair.  He’s  polite, considerate, smart and talented.  He’s quite an artist, you know.  He always sends greetings to your mother.  It seems to upset Melysande, though.  That I go and she cannot.”

“It would.  She cares about him.”

“I suspect that is the conversation my father, Cailan and the king are having with your father at supper.  Cailan very much wants him acknowledged.  He favors a union with your sister.  He’s been very vocal about it.  My father has not, but I believe he favors the union as well.  By this time next year Alistair and Melysande may be betrothed.”

“You and Cailan finally married.  Lys and Alistair betrothed.  That would be a happy Summerday indeed, Anora.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

King Maric wandered out to Teyrna Eleanor’s garden for some quiet.  He found Lys sitting on the wall looking out towards the Sea.  She turned and rose as he approached, curtsying. 

“Please, sit Lys, I’ll join you.”  They sat companionably for a while.

“You were pre-occupied for a moment in the cave, My Lady of the Sea Lions.  Perhaps even angry?”

“Yes.  Just an old memory.  A distraction really.”

“Would that old memory involve my son?”

“No, Your Majesty, not at all.”

“I didn't mean Cailan.”

“Ah, I see.  Well, then yes.  I once promised to take Alistair to the elephant seal rookery on a ride with Teyrn Loghain.  I was never able to keep that promise.  He would have enjoyed it.  The memory came to me unbidden while we were there today.  I was…quite angry…for a moment.  I wished he was with us.”  She glanced up at him, then said emphatically, “He should have been with us.”

King Maric kept quiet. 

“He used to do that,” she murmured, after a moment.  “Call me My Lady of the whatever.  My Lady Who Knows Everything was his favorite.  I could be horribly arrogant.  I still can, I suppose, although I try not to be.  I hadn’t remembered that in a long time either.”

“Memories intrude, unbidden at times.”

“I suppose it gets worse as one collects more of them,” she replied wryly.  “It’s a shame you never got to know him, although I understand why.  I sometimes wish I didn't see the world in so many shades of grey.  I think living in a black and white world would be easier.  I could have vented my anger at you today, for example, had I not suspected you had regrets as well.”

King Maric laughed.  "Those are wise observations from one so young."

‘It's the observation of a merchant and banker, I'm afraid.  Besides, Mum says I’m fifteen going on sixty most days.”

King Maric chuckled and then sat quietly for a while.

“You have no idea how much I would like to know him, Lys.  One day, when you have a child, you will understand, perhaps.  Giving him up was the most difficult thing I ever did.  His mother couldn’t keep him, but she wanted him raised away from Court.  Leaving him was harder than giving each other up.  To be so near to him and yet so distant.  That day at the Redcliffe Chantry, after the Funalis service...it was all I could do not to hug him and carry him away with Cailan and I.  You were very young, do you remember?”

“I do.  I think I realized you were his father that day.  Fergus never said, but I've always suspected you were behind all the chance meetings Ali and I had with Cailan.  Ali enjoyed those times with his brother.”

“I may have mentioned something to Fergus,” King Maric conceded.  “Cailan likes him as well.  When I finally told Cailan that Alistair was his half-brother he was ready to bring him to the palace immediately.  He rather likes the idea of a little brother.  Am I right in suspecting you know why I had to wait?  That his mother was not a Redcliffe serving maid.”

“I inferred the reason, from a conversation I should not have overheard.  His mother was a mage and a Grey Warden?"  She regarded him sadly, then tried to lighten the mood, "So now you have to execute me?" 

He chuckled.  "No, Lys, you've kept silent this long, I expect you will continue to do so.  Certainly, you understand the one who would be most hurt by the revelation would be Alistair.  You should also avoid eavesdropping.”

She looked concerned, "They had no idea I was there.  I was practicing my stealth exercises.  I slipped into Papa's study and hid.  Usually, he came in after dinner and worked alone for a time.  I was going to prove I could stay quiet, then pop out and scare him.  I was still small, only nine.  He would never have thought to look in the cabinet I chose.  No adult would fit.

“When he came in he wasn’t alone.  Duncan, the Grey Warden, was with him.  He had just been to Redcliffe and was telling my father about  the boy and his friend, the boy’s mother, another Grey Warden.  Even in the study, they didn’t mention names.  It took me a while to realize Alistair was the boy Duncan and Papa had discussed.  They never knew I was there.  Somehow I managed not to sneeze,” she smiled ruefully.  “Loghain doesn't know about the magic does he?”

"Yes, he does now.  He too guessed.  He never believed the serving maid story.  Eamon, and probably Teagan, know his mother is not a serving maid, but only your Mum, Papa, Duncan and now Loghain and you know the whole truth about his mother."

"Since I would never hurt you or Ali or my parents, the secret is quite safe with me."

"So I won't have to imprison you in Fort Drakon or ship you off to the lands beyond Tevinter or have a mage cast a memory cleansing spell.  What a relief."

Lys smiled.  "He has your sense of humor, by the way."

"So I've been told by both Loghain and Cailan.  Neither thought it his best characteristic."

"I rather enjoyed it."  Lys gazed out over the sea from the garden’s north wall.  "We all thought him very special," she added.  "I was quite in love with him when I was ten."  She fingered the Chantry amulet, which hung, with her laurel pendant on the silver chain. 

“Magic would have manifested early with him you know.  His emotions when the Orlesian was punishing him would have caused it to manifest I'm sure.  He always buried his anger, but it was there.  He has quite a temper when he loses control.” 

“So I've been told, but I had to be sure he had no magic.  The Chantry education and training will confirm it.  That was one of many  reasons Dragon's Peak was a good place for him these past years, in spite of any difficulties he faced.”

“Yes, well, I've not seen him since he left Redcliffe.  We wrote to each other for a while, but we outgrew the youthful friendship, I suppose.  At any rate, he still responds to my letters, but it’s clearly only a courtesy.  And yet I still write.  I’m glad Loghain still visits him.” 

“I think he’s probably glad you write.  At least that’s what Loghain reports.  Alistair’s been unsettled since he took vows as a templar initiate.  He seems to have lost hope in my promise that he would be acknowledged.  It's unfortunate that I couldn't acknowledge him sooner.”

“Acknowledge him?”

“Yes, I plan to acknowledge him at the next Landsmeet.  Cailan agrees.  He’ll continue his schooling and training at Dragon’s Peak, but as a student, not an initiate, unless he wants to remain as one.  When’s he’s sixteen, we’ll bring him to court.  He’ll be knighted in time.  The Chantry background will affirm the acknowledgement.  No one will question whether he is a mage should they find out there was a risk.  Eventually he will take land and a title.  In fact, I hoped to find a holding in Highever so that he pledges to your father.  Would that suit you, my lady?” he asked smiling.

She looked at King Maric seriously, “It would, Your Majesty.  Perhaps more than you know.  I have your promise, then.  You will acknowledge Alistair and he won’t be a templar, unless he wishes to?”

King Maric looked at her, “You truly care about him, don’t you?  Yes, I promise.  He will be acknowledged at the next Landsmeet.  He will never take vows unless he chooses to.”

“Thank you.  It means a lot to me, more to Alistair.”  She gazed out to sea for a while.  “He was a good friend once.  Good friends are rare.”

King Maric regarded Lys thoughtfully.  “You’re right Lys.  Friendship is a precious and rare commodity.  I promise to honor your friendship for him and for me.  And, Lys?  Don’t write off his friendship.  You may find there are embers to rekindle and it will burn brightly again.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lys continued to sit on the wall after King Maric left.  After a time she returned to her book.

“What is that you are reading, Lady Melysande?” a voice interrupted.

Looking up Lys saw Lady Anora approaching.  She smiled in greeting and stood to curtsey.  Anora was, after all, betrothed to Prince Cailan and would be Queen one day.  “ _A History of the Grey Wardens_ , My Lady.”

“That is a weighty tome for a young lady.”

“I also read romances, Lady Anora.  I’m afraid my tastes in reading are as erratic as my behavior.” 

“Then you should learn to control them.”

“About my behavior, I agree.  I too often fail to think before I speak or act.  Mum tells me I’ve improved.  I do keep trying.”

“It seems your skill with your blades saved your maid and Lady Philippa the other day.  Father says you could have killed Lord Kendall, but you only restrained him.  That showed both courage and self-control.”

“I admit, I was tempted to hurt them both, but it seemed better to let the Guard do their jobs.“

“A wise choice.  And about reading?”

“I’m not sure I agree, my lady.  I think exposing my mind to many influences might be a good thing, as long as I analyze what I learn and don’t succumb to bad influences.”

Anora regarded her thoughtfully.  “Perhaps you have a point.  Does the _History_ glamorize the wardens or is it as dry as its title suggests?”

“Glamorize?  No, My Lady.  It’s not dry or dull, but it does not glamorize death.  Blight brings destruction and death to all it touches.  There is no glamor there.  Wardens do what they must to end Blight.  Needs must when the demons drive, if you will.  Wardens' lives tend to be short and brutal.  They act to protect us all.  I suppose there is some glory in that, but very little.”

“I am impressed, Lady Melysande.  I expected you to find glory in their sacrifice.  Perhaps I should get a copy of this book for Cailan.  He views wardens as glorious, valiant heroes.”

“They are valiant, and heroes, in their persistence, vigilance and sacrifice.  To face the darkspawn and the Archdemon one would have to be.  It’s the glory and glamor I find missing in the story I’m reading.”

Anora nodded understanding, then noticed the basket of wool and the spindle.  “You spin?”

“Yes, My Lady, usually Highever wool.  I understand you have sheep in Gwaren.  I would love to try some Gwaren wool.”

“We do.  They are a small, robust breed with rather coarse wool.  I will have our Seneschal send you some.”

“I thank you Lady Anora.  Do you export any or is all the wool used at home?”

“I…am not sure, Lady Melysande.  I think it’s used at home.  You should ask father, he would know.”

“I will.  I will spin what you send and let you know what we can make of it.  Perhaps Gwaren can begin to spin and weave its own wool for trade.”

“An interesting thought.”  Anora smiled at Lys.  “You do have a head for business and trade, I see.  I enjoyed our conversation, Lys.  I think you may be growing up.”

“Thank you, Lady Anora.  I hope so.  I am a trial to my parents at times, although I truly don’t wish to be.”  She hesitated.  “Did you want anything from the garden?  I know most of the plants.  I would be happy to help you.”

“No, I just wanted some air.”  She lifted her hand from the folds of her gown.  “I too have a book.  I thought I might read on the bench by the beech tree.”

“It’s a lovely spot,” Lys agreed.  “My Mum’s favorite.  I hope you enjoy the afternoon, Lady Anora.”

Lys gathered her things and returned to the castle.  On her way, she stopped by the kitchens to request a pitcher of cool lemon tea and a plate of honey and lemon cakes be sent to Anora.

 _Well,_ she thought as she went into her room to change for dinner _, it’s been a most interesting day.  Anora and I had a pleasant conversation about something besides the weather.  King Maric promised to acknowledge Alistair.  Perhaps everything will work out afterall._

**_o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o_ **

“My Lady Mac Tir.”  Cailan set down a plate of cakes, while the servant with him set down cups and a pitcher of sweet cider.

“Cailan?”  Anora looked at the refreshments on the bench next to her. 

“Can’t take credit for this,” he grinned.  “Apparently Lady Melysande left an order with the cook to send these out to you.  I happened along while the serving girl was struggling with the tray.”  He nodded toward the young servant who had retired to a discreet distance.  “I offered to take part of her load.  I was looking for you anyway.”

Anora looked confused.  “Melysande sent the refreshments?  I must remember to thank her.”

Cailan sat beside Anora on the bench.  “I hear Fergus has a mabari?”

“Yes.  He came to the kennels while I was visiting Hap.”

“He’s a good friend.”

“He is Cailan.  To both of us I think.”  She sat for a moment.  “Cailan, I’d like to improve education in Ferelden.  I wondered, if perhaps, it might be something we could do together.  Get Fergus to advise us?  I was disturbed by what I heard of the Denerim Alienage.  I thought perhaps a school there would help.”

“You’re asking me?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a switch.”

Anora blushed.  “I know.  I tend to order everyone about.  It’s how…Cailan you know my father.  You can’t be weak with him.  I tend to act that way with everyone though.  I shouldn’t.”

“What brought this on?”

“Father.  He said some things that made me think about how I treat people.  Maybe when I give you orders you should just ask me to stop and think.”

“Meaning you’ll still give orders, but I can ask you not to after you do.”

Anora laughed.  “No.  Well that will happen, but if you do ask me to stop, I will try to do so.”

“What’s the catch?”

“We get along better.”

“You want to get along better?”

“Of course I do.  We used to.  We had fun when we were children.”

“Because I always followed your orders.” 

“Meaning you never had fun?”

“No.  We had fun.  You were more adventurous then.  We went into the woods, shot at the archery butts, rode…you were a lot like Lys really.  You don’t do any of those things anymore.”

“I do.  I still practice archery.  I still ride.”

“Not with me.”

“No.  Maybe you should ask me.  Maybe I’ll say yes.”

Cailan laughed.  “You want me to court you?”

“I…court me?”  Anora looked at him and a smile lit up her face.  “Yes, I want you to court me.  And I’ll promise to try to be adventurous again.  And I’ll try not to give orders.  I’ll even wear leggings and a tunic, if needs be, just like Lady Melysande.”

Cailan laughed.  “Fine.  In that case, Lady Anora, will you join me for a post supper walk along the cliffs.  I’m told its lovely at sunset.  I’ll meet you here once I escape from my father and Loghain.”

Anora only hesitated a moment before replying.  “I’d be honored, Your Highness.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Melysande sat in the solar playing her new vihuela.  It looked odd to most Fereldan’s with its flat bottom and hourglass shape.  In fact, it looked very much like some kind of guitar.  And played like one as well.  She could play its six double strings much as she played her guitar back in Areth.  That meant creating sounds no Fereldan had ever heard before if she felt particularly wicked. 

Anora heard the music as she walked by the solar and peeked in expecting to see a minstrel preparing music for a performance that evening.  Her father had said Lys could sing, but again the young woman surprised her.  She watched a good musician play and sing an old Fereldan song about mabari’s growing old.  She waited as Lys finished the rather haunting song.

 

_Mabari lie beside the door, they toss and turn and scratch and snore,_

_They fight again their puppy wars of playful battles raging._

_Mabari lie alone at night, they tuck their rear, they curl up tight,_

_They howl when moons are full and bright and recall when they were lovers._

_Mabari have a song to sing, Mabari like most everything,_

_They care not what the weather brings, except when it is thunder._

_Mabari look you in the eye, they hold your heart, they never lie,_

_They bark at birds up in the sky and wish that they were fliers._

_Mabari dream about the past when they frolicked fields of golden grass,_

_And chased the icy winter's blast, to lie by home fires burning._

_Mabari wander off alone but Mabari know the way back home,_

_The slightest scent, the buried bone, the hunter home returning._

_Mabari come, Mabari go, Mabari always seem to know,_

_That love is life's most precious flow and love is worth the waiting._

_And when their time on earth is through, Mabari are forever true,_

_And ‘round the bend they wait for you come some tomorrow morning._

_And ‘round the bend they wait for you come some tomorrow morning. **[2]**[20]_

As Lys finished, Anora clapped.  “That was hauntingly lovely, Lys.  Father said you sang and played, but I had no idea you were so talented.  No, no don’t get up,”  Anora said as Lys started to rise.

“Thank, you, Lady Anora.  It’s much better when I sing with Pippa.  We harmonize well.  It is rather a sad song, but sweet too.”

“It is, but you have a long time to wait for…Sherpa?-”

Lys nodded.

“-Sherpa to get old.”

“You haven’t ever wanted a mabari, my lady?”

“No.  No, not in the city.  I rarely find time to ride, which is something I love to do.  I’m afraid a mabari would get far too restless with nowhere to run.  I wouldn’t want to leave it always in the kennels.”

“We are spoiled, of course.  Highever House is on the edge of the city so we can get to the countryside more easily.  It’s a bit inconvenient getting to the Palace District though.”

“I think I would opt for the country access, Lys.”

“I didn’t realize you still liked to ride.  Would you like to join me?  I ride Starfall every morning, early, before I train.  We have several mounts that might suit, Lady Anora.”

“I…yes.  I think I would enjoy a ride with you.  I did bring Grey Willow, in fact.  I’ll meet you in the stable?”

Lys smiled.  “The grey is yours?  I didn’t realize.  Grey Willow, what a lovely name for her.  She looks like she would be a graceful mount.  Yes, meet me in the stables, please.”

Anora started to leave, then turned back.  “I am dining with your brother and Oriana this evening in their rooms.  Will you join us?”

“I…well, Oriana hasn’t asked me.”

“Ah…one of the benefits of being the future Crown Princess.”  Anora grinned.  “I almost always get my way.  I would like it if you would join us.  I’ll tell Fergus and Oriana I asked you.  He can tell you about his mabari.”

“His mabari?”  Lys’ eyes grew wide.  “The tan imprinted on him!  Oh, that’s wonderful news!”

“He named him Jadyn.” 

“He’s had that name ready for years,” Lys grinned.  “Oh he’s wanted a mabari for so long.  I feel so much better now that we both have one.  And Oren will have a mabari to grow up with him.”

Anora smiled.  “Well, I will see you at dinner then.”  She walked towards her rooms, thinking about Lys.

 _I begin to understand something of what Father sees in her.  And, maddeningly, he’s right.  She’s actually very like her mother; perhaps like her mother was during the Rebellion.  Her options for marriage in Ferelden are limited.  She thinks she’s in love with a boy who her father may deem unsuitable.  No wonder she spends her time in Nevarra_.  Anora chuckled to herself.  _And there are the fine clothes, I must remember she loves fine clothes as much as I do._

**9:25 Dragon  12 Justinian  ===  Castle Cousland**

“Mum, would you look at this please?”

Eleanor took the pendant Lys put into her hand.  “It’s a Chantry Amulet, Lys.  It looks old.”

“It’s Alistair’s.  It belonged to his mother.  I had it repaired, polished and got a new chain.  I want to give it to him when I see him.”

“Where did you get it?”

“It was in the box of personal things Teyrn Loghain left with me.  Look at the engraving.”

Eleanor turned the amulet over.  “Fiona,” she said reading the engraving.

“Fiona, Mum.  The warden I met.  The warden who knew you.  The Orlesian, elven, mage warden.  I know Alistair’s mother was a mage and Grey Warden.  That’s why she had to give him up and why the Warden-Commander knows about him.  Was she an elf, too?  I know that if one parent is human, the child is human.  Did I meet Alistair’s mum?  And how do you know her?  She said she knew you.  You talked with her for a long time.”

Eleanor sighed at the barrage of questions.  “Alistair was born here Lys.”

“Here?  In Higheverport?”

“No, my darling, here in Castle Cousland.”

“I met him as a baby?  Then why didn’t he stay?”

“King Maric made other choices.  Fiona could not keep him.  The warden’s wouldn’t let her keep a child.  She feared what they would do with him.  So she came to Ferelden to give birth and then took him to King Maric.  I think he would say now, that sending him to Eamon was a mistake, but that is what he did.”

Lys stood quietly staring out of the solar window for a long time.  Eleanor stood behind her and wrapped her arms around Lys’ shoulders in a hug.

“He should have stayed.  He could have been happy.”  Lys finally whispered.

“I know, sweetling.  I wanted him to.  I’ve always wanted him to live with us.”

“King Maric promised to acknowledge him at the Landsmeet,”

“I know sweetheart.  He will.”  

* * *

[1][19] Elephant seals:  found on northern California beaches from Point Reyes south.  At Piedras Blancas, just off the CA Coastal Highway 1 north of San Simeon you can view them up close.  Here I envisioned a more remote rookery. 

[2] [20]  With apologies to Bill Staines and his song _Old Dogs_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N2: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. As a new author, I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her efforts. She sorted out Eleanor’s Ladies in Waiting among other things this time. She always improves flow and clarity of the chapters. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and those who Reviewed this week: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, EasternViolet, nh09jrb, katdancer2 and SnowHelm I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. It helps me keep going, knowing others enjoy Lys, Alistair, Loghain, Anora and the company too.
> 
> There are appendices with background assumptions on timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. in AO3. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure (remove spaces and copy): archive of our /works/692656/chapters/1273563


	33. Don't Let It Be Forgot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:25 Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

 “Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 33:  DON’T LET IT BE FORGOT**

* * *

**9:25 Dragon  20 Justinian  ===   Denerim**

“Loghain, you will serve as regent in my absence, as usual, but I want Cailan to preside over Court with the Bannorn.  It’s time he stopped observing and took on some responsibilities.  I’ve spoken with him.  He agrees.  I was going to suggest Anora join him, but he suggested it first.  They seem to be getting along much better.  Had you noticed?”

“I had.”  Loghain chuckled.  “It seems Cailan decided to court her.  Flowers.  Riding together.  Friendly archery competitions.  It seems they even discuss state business.”

Maric raised an eyebrow.  “Good for Cailan.  That explains his question.”  Maric smiled.  “He asked me if I courted Rowen.  I had to say no, I’d never courted any woman.”  He blinked and shook his head.  “As for Cailan and Anora, they need to learn to confer and work together during Court sessions.  I also want them to observe Council Meetings.  It will be good for them to start while I’m gone, less pressure on Cailan, if I’m not there.”

“Sensible.  Both Cailan courting Anora and you giving him responsibilities.  I’ve long thought Cailan needed honest work, as you know.”  Loghain frowned as he broached the next subject.  “Maric, why do you need to go to Wycombe?”

“To mediate a dispute between Wycombe and several other Free Marcher cities – Markham, Ostwick.  Hercinia, Bastion and Ansburg have a dispute with Wycombe.  Antiva seems to be preparing to support Wycombe.  It could affect our considerable trade with the eastern Marches and Antiva.  You know this, Loghain.”

“I do.  I don’t understand why it needs _your_ attention.  Let Bryce go.  He’s done this before.  I asked why _you_ have to go.”

“I also want sail on the Demelza[1][21].  She’s our newest ship.  It will kill two birds with one stone.”

“You don’t have to go all the way to Wycombe to take a sail.”

“Loghain, I am not running away to the Deep Roads.  I’m not leaving in secret in the dead of night.  There are perfectly good reasons for me to mediate this dispute instead of Bryce.  Bryce thinks he won’t be considered neutral with his family connections to Antiva.  I agree.  I’ll be away for five or six weeks, seven at most if the winds fail us.”  He studied his old friend.  “I’ll return in time for the Autumn Landsmeet, Loghain.  My plans to acknowledge him stand.  The Grand Cleric already knows my intent.  Everything is in place.  I won’t forget.”

“I should bind you to the throne, Maric.  This jaunt is unnecessary.  I’m surprised Bryce supports it.  Nevertheless, I will do as you ask regarding Cailan, but you don’t have to leave to have him hear the Bannorn’s complaints.” 

“So, I shouldn’t stop by for a brandy tonight?  Oh right, it’s Antivan brandy.  The enemy.”

Loghain strode out of the King’s chambers muttering to himself.  Maric chuckled as he watched him go.

**9:25 Dragon, 20 Solace  ===   Denerim**

Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir stared out of the window in the study he used when in the Royal Palace of Ferelden.  King Maric had allocated the large study and adjoining bedroom and servants quarters to Loghain after the Rebellion.  Maric wanted him close and Loghain had not yet taken possession of Gwaren House _.  You’re not staying at an Inn Loghain, that’s ridiculous.  I command that you take these rooms._  Loghain could still see the self-satisfied smirk on Maric’s face as his squire moved his baggage into the Palace apartment.

Loghain had kept the rooms.  The study he used almost daily.  Maric had been right about the convenience.  The bedroom he used only when he and Maric had too much to drink on an evening or on the rare occasion when he stayed late at an affair.  Loghain turned to pour himself a brandy.  Two glasses stood on the small table.  _It will only be one glass from now on._   _This room has been as much a retreat for Maric as for me._   _Now, I’ll have to go to Cailan._  

Loghain sat in one of the two chairs by the fire.  _Damn the man!_ He held the letter delivered earlier that day by an emissary from Wycombe.  As Regent, he had received the note, not Cailan.  As Regent, he would have to relay the message, first to Cailan and Anora, then to the nobility and Bannorn.  As Regent, he would have to manage the succession of Maric’s son Cailan in the Landsmeet.  As Regent, he could _not_ go away and mourn his friend and brother.  He reread the words, which ripped through his heart in a way no weapon of steel ever could.

_9:25 Dragon  10 Solis_

_It is with great regret that we write to inform you that King Maric of Fereldan has not arrived in Wycombe.  Our inquiries show no evidence of wreckage or debris, which might indicate a shipwreck along the coast of the Free Marches between Wycombe and Ostwick.  No report of shipwreck or demand for ransom has been received from Llomerynn, Rivain, or the pirates of the Feliscima Armada.  The ships we sent in search of the Ferelden naval caravel Demelza have found nothing.  We can only report that the Demelza disappeared at sea with all on board._

_We send our heartfelt condolences on the loss of your King, his entourage, crew and vessel._

_Viscount Felix Geraillo_

_Wycombe, the Free Marches_

He felt the tears, hot and angry, coursing down his cheeks.  _We survived Orlesians, murderous traitors, the Rebellion, the deaths of our friends, betrayal by those we hated and those we loved, that fool’s errand to the Deep Roads…we survived all of it and lived to see Ferelden growing strong again and now you die on a meaningless journey to solve a trade issue Bryce could have handled.  Damn you Maric, why?_   

Loghain took a deep, ragged breath and stopped his sobs by power of will alone.  He got up and poured another brandy.  _More importantly, who?  This could not be a random event.  No wreckage?  No storm?  Not even a ransom demand?  Who?  Who would take Maric and hold him?  Who would do it so brazenly as to not even fake a shipwreck?_ He drank the brandy in one gulp and stood stiffly.  Clenching his fist around the empty glass, he threw it against the stone hearth where it shattered.  _Good._   _I’ll need just the one now._

Coming out of the bedroom after rinsing his face in the tepid water of his washbowl, he rang for his steward.  Steward Petrus served Loghain, but was part of Seneschal Laurens’ staff.  Anora and Cailan each had a steward who served them and would liaise with the king’s Seneschal and the rest of his staff to insure the smooth operation of the royal household.  The Seneschal also coordinated the Crown’s affairs with the Royal officials, nobles and the Bannorn. 

“Your Grace, what is your pleasure?”  Steward Petrus asked.

“My pl…I need to see Crown Prince Cailan and Lady Anora, Petrus.  Once I speak with them, we will need to speak with Seneschal Laurens, you, Steward Lilia and Steward Terence.  Please ask the Prince and Anora to come to me here.  Then ask Laurens to have the four of you gather in the small Audience Room.  Prince Cailan, Anora and I will join you there.”

“Yes, Your Grace.  Is there-“

“-something wrong?  Yes Petrus, but don’t mention that when you speak to Cailan and Anora.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

Loghain returned to his chair.

Anora and Cailan arrived together dressed very casually.  Anora’s hair was unbraided and tied back.

Loghain raised an eyebrow.  _Perhaps the courting has gone farther than I realized_.  _That could be good_.   

 _Maker, he looks terrible._ “Father?  What has happened?”

“Did someone die?  Did Orlais declare war?”  Cailan asked seeing the shattered glass still on the hearth.

“Sit.”  Loghain stood by his chair.

Anora and Cailan looked at each other.  The command was terse, even for Loghain.  Cailan held the second chair by the fire for Anora and went to retrieve the desk chair for himself.  Anora gave him a slight smile, appreciating that he understood this – whatever this was – was serious.  Cailan placed his chair by Anora’s and took her hand.

“I don’t know how to sugar coat this, so I won’t.”  Loghain looked at the young man who was now, as far as he was concerned, his king and his daughter.  “The Delmelza disappeared at sea with all on board.”

Anora gasped and squeezed Cailan’s hand. 

Cailan looked confused. “Disappeared?  So there’s hope for them?”

“No, Cailan.  No hope.”  Loghain handed Cailan the letter.

Cailan and Anora read it together. 

“What must we do now, Father?”

“Have Cailan declared King, of course.  Conveniently, we have a Landsmeet in few weeks.” He said with some bitterness.  “We’ll not announce the loss of the Demelza officially until the Landsmeet, but we’ll need to advise the Council members, the Grand Cleric, perhaps a few others, sooner.  Otherwise we will continue as if nothing has happened.”  

Anora looked at her betrothed.  As he had promised in Highever, he had been courting her.  To her surprise, she had enjoyed it and found she both liked and cared about her future husband.  “Cailan,”  she said softly.

“Father’s dead?  He can’t be.  He’s Maric the Savior, Saviors don’t die.  He’s not old.  Loghain?”

Anora saw her father try to form the words to comfort Cailan.  He was close to tears and fighting it.  She remembered that look.  He had looked that way when her mother died.  She took a deep breath.  Time to take charge of her men.  She almost smiled.  She could hear Fergus’ voice in her head.  _Gently, Anora.  Herd them._

“Father, did you call for Seneschal Laurens to gather our stewards?”

 Loghain attention snapped back to the matters at hand.  “I did, Anora.”

“Perhaps you should go see if they all arrived.  Cailan and I will follow.”

“Yes.  Yes, that’s a good idea.”  Loghain walked over to Cailan and put his hands on the young man’s shoulders, squeezing them.  “Think what he would want Cailan.  That’s all we can do now.  What he would want.”

Once Loghain left, Anora pulled Cailan to his feet.  She cupped his face In her hands.  “Cailan, look at me.”

“How can he be dead, ‘Nora.  He’s the most alive person I know.”

Anora pulled him close and wrapped one arm around his waist.  Her other held the back of his head as he cried into her shoulder.  _Father had cried too.  He had hidden the trace of tears well, but she could tell.  He and Cailan needed time to mourn, but there would be no time for any of them._

**9:25 Dragon, 8 August  ===   Denerim**

Cailan was angry.  “Why did he even go on this Maker Damned trip?  You told him not to, didn’t you, Loghain?”

“I asked him not to, Your Highness.  Telling your father to do something rarely worked out well.”

 _So that’s where Cailan gets it.  That was probably Bryce’s role, to herd Maric._ Anora smiled to herself, then wondered.  _Bryce and Fergus should be here by now._

“Father, did you send word to Teyrn Cousland and Fergus to join us?  They arrived at Highever House a few days ago.”

“No.”

Anora frowned, but Cailan cut in before she could respond.

“Loghain and I discussed the Couslands.  Apparently, Teyrn Cousland encouraged father to take this trip.”

Anora looked at him not comprehending his meaning right away.  “You can’t possibly think-“

“It’s not beyond the realm of possibility, Anora.”  Loghain looked uncomfortable, as he spoke.  “Bryce has so many foreign entanglements.  He may have been manipulated into encouraging Maric to go, but we need to consider how he might be involved.”

“He has Antivan connections.  He could have hired Crows to assassinate father.  They’re inventive.  Capturing the ship and making everyone disappear could be their method.”  Cailan said.

“I can’t believe you two are serious.  Bryce Cousland betray his king and Ferelden?  The man who lives for duty and honor.  What could he possibly hope to gain?”

“My crown.”

“Your crown?  Cailan…I’m sorry, but that’s nonsense.  Teyrn Bryce fought beside Maric and Father.  He has built up Ferelden’s wealth and advised Maric loyally for twenty-five years.  Fergus is your closest friend.  Father?”

“It has to be considered, Anora.  This is not the time to trust unquestioningly.  When Bryce proves himself loyal, I’m sure Cailan will restore him to his advisory position.  You must understand, there are rumors.”

“There are always rumors.  Since when do you listen to Court gossip?”

“These are more substantial, Anora.”  Cailan said.  “It’s said that Bryce plans to put himself forward as king.”

Anora shook her head.  “Cailan, I think I am as cautious and suspicious as you, but I don’t see this.”

“Then I suppose we’ll find out at the Landsmeet, won’t we?”

**9:25 Dragon   ===   Denerim**

The Autumn Landsmeet began on 20 August.  The Regent, Teyrn Loghain, had the heart-wrenching task of officially announcing that the Demelza had disappeared at sea with no trace.  Memories of King Maric were all that remained.   

Instead of acknowledging Alistair, as Maric had planned, the Landsmeet heard the sad news and adjourned until they could confer with each other and confirm the missing King’s status.  When the Landsmeet resumed, not quite two weeks later in Kingsway, the assembled banns and nobility declared Maric dead and the Demelza lost.  After some confusion, the Landsmeet declared Cailan to be his father’s successor.  King Maric’s Funeral, Cailan’s Coronation and a hurried, scaled down Royal Wedding all merged into one sad, solemn, month long state event. 

At the Kingsway Landsmeet, Cailan's rumors proved true when a group of banns put Teyrn Bryce Cousland forward as a candidate for King, despite Bryce’s objections.  After losing the obligatory vote by only a slight margin, Teyrn Cousland promptly withdrew, declaring he had not wanted to be king and that he wholly supported Cailan.  The close vote, however, demonstrated how little the Bannorn and the Fereldan nobility trusted the young king.  It left Cailan feeling vulnerable and Loghain feeling angry.

“See, we told you he was disloyal.  Proposing himself as king.  I told you, Anora.”  Cailan pounded a fist on against the wall.

“You did, Cailan, but the banns who proposed him for king surprised me.  None of the were pledged to Highever.  If Teyrn Cousland wanted to be King, you would think he would first secure the support of his own Teyrnir.  Nor did Teyrn Cousland speak up for himself as such candidates normally do.  Nor does any of this prove he had anything to do with the disappearance of your father.”

Loghain regarded his daughter and her reasoned arguments thoughtfully, but Cailan flushed with anger.

“No?  How else could he put himself forward?  He couldn’t oppose Father.”  He whirled on Loghain.  “And we must raise this with the Landsmeet.  Let them know he led father to his…to his death.”

“There’s not enough evidence to bring before the Landsmeet, Cailan,” Loghain said.  “And given the close vote, it would not be wise to accuse Teyrn Cousland based on speculation.  Give our operatives time to investigate.”

Cailan glowered, but nodded his assent. 

Ferelden changed forever after King Maric’s disappearance.  Maric provided the impetus to move Ferelden forward and the glue to hold her together.  He maintained the balance between his two close advisors, Teyrn Loghain MacTir and Teyrn Bryce Cousland.  With Maric gone, the center no longer held.  The changes did not happen overnight, but they did happen, slowly and inexorably, while Orlais watched greedily and Tevinter lurked in the background.  New advisors rushed to fill the vacuum left by the Cousland’s forced retreat to Highever.  Very quickly, it seemed, Fereldans forgot the policies and alliances that made King Maric’s rule successful.

**9:25 Dragon  2 Kingsway  ===  Dragon’s Peak Monastery**

Alistair had been moody lately.  Cullen decided becoming a templar was still what he wanted.  He thought he could make a difference.  Alistair was less sure about that, but he supported his friend’s choice.  Cullen had taken his vows and received his knighthood a month ago.  He left for his first post – the Circle Tower – in the beginning of August.  Alistair missed his friendship.  _Every time I make a friend…._   _I should learn.  It only gets me hurt_.

The two young men had taken a final walk through the monastery forest before Cullen left.

_“Will I see you when I come to Kinloch Hold next year?”_

_“Of course.  It’s not that large.  I might even be your guide.  They assign a new templar to accompany each initiate or at least they did when I went.”_

_“I’d like that.  Will we get time to talk?  Or is it all training and lessons?”_

_“There’s meal time and free time.  Not much free time, but some.”_

_“I’ll look forward to seeing you.  Not the Circle Tower so much, though .”  Alistair stopped on an outcrop to scan the fields below them._

_“Planning your defenses?”_

_“No, an attack.  I’m feeling aggressive.  Just think if there were scores of practice dummies down there.  I could destroy them all.”  Alistair laughed.  “It’s a habit.  Teyrn Loghain always asks me to assess the terrain.  I miss him.  It’s been a long time.  The Landsmeet should be over soon.  I guess I’m here for another year.”_

_“What?”_

_“Nothing.  I just thought I’d see Teyrn Loghain before the Landsmeet.”_

_“What did you mean, another year?”_

_“I just thought I might get permission to leave and visit him in Denerim.  I guess not.  Not important.”_

_“You might get invited to take early vows, you know.  You’re better than I was at your age.”_

_Alistair looked at Cullen, hesitating before he spoke.  “You wanted this Cullen.  I don’t.  I never have.  I want to find a way out.  I don’t care anymore how I leave or what I do.  Anything would be better.”_

_“I’m not surprised, Alistair.  You’re not exactly devout.  Is that why you want to see Teyrn Loghain, to tell him?”_

_“In part, although he knows.  I just need to ask again and figure out how to delay my vows.”_

While he had acquaintances among the other initiates, he had no friends.  With Cullen gone he felt morose and restless, with a need for solitude.  So he had been hiding in the library and scriptorium at every opportunity.  Well, every opportunity except when he chose to annihilate practice dummies.  _If I ruin another one the trainer will annihilate me._

As Alistair sat quietly staring at the words on a scroll, the Librarian, Brother Jerome, broke his customary silence.

“Alistair,” he whispered.  “Revered Mother Hilda requires everyone to attend Nones today.  There’s to be some important announcement.”

 _Normally the templar initiates only attended Prime, Vespers and sometimes Compline_.  Alistair started to grumble, but thought better of it.  _Brother Jerome looks very serious and sad?  That’s odd._ “Coming, Brother.  I’ll just put this scroll away first.”

Alistair slipped into the back of the Chantry and took a seat just before Revered Mother Hilda stepped up to the lectern.  Later, he would be glad he was in the last row among the servants.  At least no one saw his expression as she announced the death of King Maric.  The father he had met briefly one Funalis in Redcliffe was gone.  Hope that he might one day be acknowledged, extinguished.  He thought, when Cullen left, that he could not feel more alone.  He was wrong. 

He filed out of the Chantry and attended training as if nothing had changed.  Somehow, in the days that followed, he went through the activities expected of him.  At least, he knew why Teyrn Loghain had not visited.  _Perhaps he will visit once Cailan and Anora are settled on the throne._   He wanted to talk to him, to reach out to someone from that other world he had almost inhabited, someone who knew who he might have been.  _Not a prince.  I never wanted to be a prince.  Just a son.  Maric’s son and Cailan’s brother._  

**9:25 Dragon, 5 Kingsway  ===   Denerim**

Eleanor found her daughter in the garden of Highever House.  The Cousland’s Denerim estate perched at the northern edge of the city, on cliffs overlooking the Amaranthine Ocean.  Good relations between the ancient Teyrns of Denerim and Highever had allowed the Couslands to build their estate centuries ago, before the there was a Royal Palace.  Love of its seaside location, so reminiscent of Highever, kept them from re-locating to a more convenient and fashionable area in the Palace District.  The location also had the benefit of sea breezes, which wafted away the fouler odors of the often-dirty port city.

A sheer cliff dropped from the garden’s end to the rocks and sea below.  The cliff provided a natural wall.  No boat could dock in the rough, rocky seas.  Given the natural barrier, only a low wall protected the estate along the cliff top.  Several alcoves wet into the wall’s length offered seating.  Eleanor found Lys in one of the these, wrapped in a cloak against the autumn chill.

“Lys, did you and your father disagree again?”

“Not exactly.  He just won’t listen to me…to any of my suspicions.  He won’t try to talk to Teyrn Loghain or let Fergus talk to Cailan.”

“He wants to believe nothing has changed.”  Eleanor sat beside her daughter. “That what happened at the Landsmeet didn’t scare and anger Cailan.  That, even though Cailan is king, it will all go back to the way it was under Maric.  It will take him time to adjust.”

“Everything that happened should be so clear.  Maric’s disappearance.  Father being put forth for king.  It’s not all happenstance.  From what we know, the Demelza disappeared without a trace in late Justinian or early Solace.”  She drew her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them, staring out to sea.  _King Maric’s disappearance at sea left too many questions.  There had been no storm.  No wreckage or bodies from the Demelza washed ashore._ Realizing her Mum still sat beside her she spoke again, “Some wreckers on some beach somewhere between here and Wycombe should have found wreckage or remains.  If they had, they would step up and claim the reward the Crown offered.  Unless someone does, it’s clear to me the Demelza was taken, not sunk.” 

“Have you been able to talk with Teyrn Loghain?  Will he see you?  If anyone will credit you theory it would be him.”

“No.  He sent a note.  He apologized for the Seneschal at Gwaren House, who turned me away, and promised he would set up a time to meet.  That was three weeks ago.  He must have thought better of meeting with me.”  She frowned.  “I don’t even know if he’s visited Alistair.  Maker, can you imagine what he must be feeling if no one’s seen him?”

Eleanor sat beside Lys and put her arm around her.  “Write to him Lys.  I’m sure Loghain will go to Dragon’s Peak eventually.  Send the letter to Loghain by messenger and I’m sure he’ll take it with him.  Just…don’t seal it.  Let Loghain read it, if he thinks he must.”

Lys stiffened at her mother’s words.  “Now we’re all suspect?  Maker, Mum, what happened was in accordance with custom.  Papa did nothing wrong.  He told the banns who approached him before the Landsmeet that he didn’t want it.  I wish Papa had flouted custom and denounced the nomination immediately.  Then there would be no doubt where he stood.”  Before her mother could respond, she continued, “I know…hindsight.  It feels like our world is falling apart.”  _Perhaps Orlais captured King Maric and now intends to foment a split between the Crown and Ferelden’s leading noble family._   _Or maybe Tevinter_.  She hesitated to express this, even to her mother.  Everyone thought she was being overly dramatic.  ‘Ship’s sink,’ they said.  ‘It’s tragic, but it happens.’

“Mum, why did King Maric go on this trip?  Usually Father does this sort of thing, doesn’t he?  I mean, I’m glad Papa didn’t go, but why?”

“Your father and Maric decided it would be best if the king went.  With so many Marcher city-states involved and the potential that Antiva might back Wycombe, they worried that our Antivan ties might get in the way.”

“So Papa encouraged King Maric to go?”

Eleanor stared at her daughter.  “Lys, what are you implying?”

“I’m not sure.  Just that Cailan might think Papa planned it all?”

“Lys, Cailan can be foolish, but Loghain and Anora would not think that way.  They would convince Cailan otherwise.”

“Even if Papa opposed him in the Landsmeet?”

“Bryce did not oppose Cailan.”

“Mum, we know that, but others don’t see it that way.  I’ve talked to Pippa.  She said her father heard other nobles saying Papa promoted himself, took a gamble and almost won.  Some admire him for it.”  Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the horizon.  “Rendon Howe’s been saying he didn’t think father’s had the balls to put himself forth.  He says he admires him for it.  Howe never agrees with father or complements him.

“Then there are the banns who voted for father.  Many think Cailan too inexperienced and weak.  They say Loghain has too much influence now, particularly if Anora becomes queen.  There are banns from Amaranthine, like Bann Esmerelle, who say Papa recruited them.”

Eleanor rested her cheek on her daughter’s head.  She, Bryce and Fergus had heard the same comments.  Arl Broughten and Arl Wulff had tried to get Bryce to speak up for himself.  “It will work out, sweetheart.  Sudden change like this…everyone finds it difficult.  Maric was still young.  No one expected this.  He and Loghain were like brothers.  This ripped Loghain’s world apart too.  Now Loghain must see Cailan crowned and he and Anora wed.  Once that’s done, Loghain will have time to think and realize Bryce did not initiate the bann’s actions.  They will talk then and settle this.”

“Mum, don’t you think it’s suspicious that the banns who proposed Papa to stand for King either support or were pledged to Redcliffe and Amaranthine.  None of them were Highever banns.”

Eleanor frowned.  “Yes, I suppose I do.”

“Did no one else notice?”

“Apparently not.  Amaranthine is, after all, a vassal.  Redcliffe has allied with Highever in the past.”

“I think Arls Guerrin and Howe organized the whole thing to get Papa out of the picture.  Now they need only deal with Teyrn Loghain.  I wonder what they’ll do to remove him?”

“Remove him!  Lys that’s a bit farfetched.  Howe and Guerrin aren’t known to cooperate.  They dislike each other.”

“Is it farfetched?  We know Arlessa Isolde influences Arl Eamon and that Orlais probably influences her through Sister Eleutheria or her own family.  Arl Howe always undermines father.  And he has family ties to Tevinter.  He’s even had Magisters visiting Vigil’s Keep.”

“Rendon trades with Tevinter as his father and uncle did before him.  Both his wife, Julia, and his mother, Livia, were from merchant families in Perivantium.  It’s legal and no different from our ties with Nevarra and Starkhaven.  Sometimes you read too much into things, Lys.  Trading with Tevinter is legal, it’s just something _we_ don’t do.”  Eleanor hesitated and then added, “And we might suspect Sister Eleutheria, but we don’t know anything.  There’s no proof the Guerrins were behind this.”

“Nothing Rendon Howe or Eamon Guerrin does is innocent.”  Lys complained.  She gave her mother a sidelong look.  “You suspect the Guerrins too.”

“Perhaps.  Eamon’s always felt overlooked and underappreciated.  He would see isolating your father as a chance to get Cailan’s ear.”  She chuckled and Lys looked at her startled.  “I imagine Eamon was alarmed when the vote almost went to your father.  I wish it had.  Then Bryce could have declined and stood for Cailan.  That would have proved his loyalty without question.”  Eleanor sighed.  “Right now there is nothing you or I can do.  We must attend the funeral tomorrow.  Come, let’s decide what you will wear.  I won’t have you in black yet, but dark blue or green would be appropriate.  Anora will likely wear white.  You must wear a dark color.”

“Are you sure they’ll let us in?”

“Yes.  We’ve done nothing wrong, Lys, as you said.  Maric was our king and our friend.  Cailan may be cool, but we will be proper and courteous.  We will attend the funeral, Cailan’s coronation, the Royal Wedding, and Anora’s coronation as Queen-Consort.  I do not intend to hide away.”

Lys smiled.  Her Mum would observe all the proprieties, but Eleanor Honoria Haris Burke Cousland would not be put down by anyone.  The Couslands would attend all events and hold their heads high.

**9:25 Dragon, 6 Kingsway  ===   Royal Palace, Denerim**

“Lady Anora,” Lys curtsied.  “On behalf of the Cousland family, please accept our deepest condolences.  King Maric’s loss is deeply felt by all in Highever who called him our King and our friend.”

“Thank you, Lady Cousland,” Anora replied.  Crown Prince Cailan and Teyrn Loghain, still acting as regent, stared coolly at Lys.   

“I see the Couslands have not lost their audacity, Lady Melysande.”  Loghain said.

“We only wish to show our loyalty and grief, Teyrn Mac Tir.  We loved-”

“Loyalty?  I think we all know where Cousland loyalty lies, don’t we?”  Cailan interrupted angrily.

Lys held her head high.  “I hope so, Your Majesty.  Cousland loyalty lies where it has always lain, at the feet of the Theirins who sit on the throne of Ferelden.”  She looked from Anora to Cailan and Loghain.

Anora bit her lower lip, concerned where this conversation would go.  Loghain frowned and Cailan glared. 

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, if you don’t believe that.  We…I loved King Maric and will miss him.  My family only wishes to serve Ferelden and the Crown.”  Lys curtsied again and moved on, not attempting to speak further with Cailan or Loghain.

Anora breathed a sigh of relief.  _Well done, Lys._   _Eleanor was wise to send her daughter to present Highever’s condolence wishes._

She glanced at her father who had followed Lys progress to a balcony door.  He raised an eyebrow.  He approved of Lys as well.

Lys slipped out onto a small balcony, shivering as the chill air struck her.  She pulled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders and she hugged herself.  Tears slipped down her cheeks, unbidden.  _This has all gone so wrong.  I understand Cailan aches for his father.  Becoming king must be frightening, but why must he take it out on us?_   She did not hear the door open and close behind her.

“Lady Melysande.”

Lys jumped.  “Bann Teagan.  You startled me.”

“Harsh words from our Regent and our King?”

“We all mourn today, Bann Teagan.  His Majesty most of all.  I can’t imagine how awful he must feel.”

“Truly said, My Lady.  King Maric will be missed, but Cailan has many supporters.  Eamon will be ready to lend our nephew any help he needs.  As will I.”

“I’m sure Cailan will appreciate his uncles’ support.”  She grimaced.  “I’m showing my youth and naiveté, Bann Teagan.  All of this is so hard to believe.  I feel like I’ve moved to a different world.”

“The world has changed, Lys, but it will settle.  Cailan will be a fine king.”  Bann Teagan saw Lys shiver.  “You should come inside, Lys.  You’ll catch a chill out here.”

“Yes, Bann Teagan.  Thank you.  It was kind of you to speak with me.”  She followed Teagan inside, composing herself to face the crowd of nobles.  “I would like to find my family, if you will excuse me.” 

“Of course.”

Lys curtsied and walked away, gracefully, fully aware that many eyes were on her.  Her composed features reflected only the seriousness of the occasion.  _Now I understand the reason for masks_ , she thought, as she crossed the wide hall to where her mother, father, Oriana and Fergus stood, alone in the crowd.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Cailan’s coronation took place in the Landsmeet Chamber at the end of Kingsway.  Her mother, as Bann of Longs Reach, and her father and Fergus, representing the Teyrnir of Highever, took their rightful places on the balcony overlooking the dais.  Oriana stayed with Oren at Highever House.  There had been much discussion about whether Bryce should attend, but finally, he had decided going would underscore his loyalty.  Lys chose to stand on the main floor, in the rear, with the lesser banns and their families.  Once the ceremony ended and the social portion of the event began, Lys started to leave.  Before she could depart, a servant, in royal livery, approached.  The message he carried surprised her.

_Please attend me in the small salon.  Cyril will conduct you.  AMT._

_This can’t be good._ She was alone.  No one would know where she had gone.  _What could Anora possibly want today?_   Not for the first time, she blessed her Cousin Samuel and her training.  Schooling her features, she turned to the servant.

“Cyril, your mistress tells me you will conduct me to the small salon.  Please, lead the way.”

Lys entered the room.  Sparsely furnished with a few chairs and a table, it appeared to provide a retiring area near the dais.  As if to confirm her assumptions, Lady Anora entered through a door concealed behind a tapestry.

“Lady Melysande, thank you for attending me.”

Lys curtsied.  “Of course, Lady Mac Tir.”

 _Anora looked uncomfortable._   _Why?_

“Lys….”  Anora began.

Lys failed to conceal her surprise.

“May I still call you Lys?”

“Of course, My Lady.”

“You should continue to call me Anora.” 

“As you wish…Anora.”  _What game are we playing now?_

“We had been getting on much better these past months.  I’ve enjoyed our rides and conversations.  You’ve grown up and I’ve shed some of my resentments.  I don’t want to lose our connection.

“I’ve had some time since the funeral to give the events of the past weeks much thought.  It’s occurred to me that the banns putting your father forward were not those pledged to him, at least not directly.  That lends some credence to his claim that he had no desire to displace Cailan.”

 _Now how do I play this?  Well, some things are obvious, so I’ll go with that.  “_ I agree, Anora.  The banns, who named my father, favor or are pledged to Redcliffe or Amaranthine.  Arl Howe pledges to my father, it’s true, but he supported Cailan.  I must assume his banns’ actions surprised him.”

“And yet,” Anora noted, grimly, “they have not been questioned or rebuked.  I asked the Arl about that.  He implied there would be an investigation in the future.”

“You don’t think Arl Howe was party to this?”  Lys asked.

Anora stared at the floor.  “I am not sure, but I am coming to believe your father wasn’t either.”

“Do your father and King Cailan think the same?”

“Cailan remains furious.  He’s feeling very vulnerable and apprehensive.  And he insists your father encouraged King Maric to take the trip.”

”My father and King Maric decided, together, that because Antiva might be involved in the dispute, my father would be considered biased.  They both felt resolving the dispute, which could affect trade all along the Minanter, important to Ferelden’s interests.”

“Father said much the same thing, but went along with Cailan’s desire to investigate.  Maker, he can be stubborn.”

“My Lady…Anora?”

“No, it becomes all too clear.  I think there is conspiracy within Ferelden, but I don’t think your father was involved.  Lys, Cailan needs time to grieve and…dare I say, grow up.”

“I wish…well we wish that Cailan would see Fergus.  They’ve been friends for a long time.”

“I agree.  He needs his true friends, but he won’t.  He can be very stubborn.  I’m trying to be patient and not nag or order him about.”  Anora smiled ruefully.  “Not easy for me, but I am trying.”

“I’m sure Fergus will see him whenever he is ready.”

“Good.  On a more positive note, Father should be easier to convince once all these events are over.  He… your father and mine are…were good friends.  Father felt betrayed at the Landsmeet.  He knew Maric went instead of you father.  Then Maric disappeared.  Every conspiracy theory he’s every believed in comes true with Maric’s death.  There are moments I expect him to ride off to Orlais on his own.  Once he takes time to think, he’ll see reason.  You know father.  He needs to let an idea steep for a while before he adopts it.”

Lys smiled.  “Not if it’s a good war tactic or strategy.”

Anora laughed.  “See, you do know him well.  And he misses you.  And your family.  Although he won’t admit it.”  She hesitated.  “I do not apologize easily, but I do owe an apology to you.  I’ve been jealous.  Of your self-assurance, my father’s attentions to you, your ease with King Maric, your freedom to choose your life, so many things.  Father told me I was foolish, but I wouldn’t listen.  He was, as he often is, correct.”

 _Now I am thoroughly confused,_ Lys thought _.  What is the game here?  “_ I was a rather annoying  child, Anora.  You visited us enough to know that.  You can hardly be blamed for not wanting a rowdy brat running around.”

“I’ll tell you a secret.  I was a – as you say – a rowdy brat when I was growing up in Gwaren.  My mother, who had been a very proper girl, despaired of me.  I had more skinned knees and elbows.…”  Anora had a faraway look.  “When I helped Mother in her garden I would come in with thorn pricks, dirt under my nails because I refused gloves and always mud in my braids.  Father would laugh and Mother would call for a bath.  Father always told me we weren’t so different, you and I.

“Yet you had a self-assurance and freedoms that I never had.  I envied your freedoms and your mother.  Eleanor helped me when I arrived, more than I can ever repay.  I loved staying at Highever House and visiting Castle Cousland, those first years after Mother died.  You mother would hug me, guide me, gently advise me and introduce me to the nobility.  Then I decided I needed to stay at Gwaren House and declined to become her Lady-in-Waiting.  A decision I’ve since regretted, by the way.  Your mother continued to help, but she would always go home to you.  I was not her daughter and I was jealous.

“Lys, I can’t fix everything right away, but I promise you I will try.  In the meantime, your father and Fergus should probably stay in Highever and only come to Denerim for Landsmeets.  It will get easier once father comes around.  Even Cailan will see reason one day.  Slowly we will get back to normal or what will pass for normal in the future.  Eventually, I’ll include your mother in my circle again.  I’ll convince Cailan that Fergus means him no harm.  I have no doubt once that happens, my father and yours will resume their old roles.

“You will be presented next year I think?”

Lys nodded, yes.

“Well, that will be a good time to bring you all back to Court.”

“I…thank you, Anora.  I hope to see all that come to pass.  Should I advise Mum and Fergus of this conversation?”

“Yes.  That would be best.  I…it is less obvious if I meet with you, however.  Everyone thinks we don’t get along.  If I spoke with your mother, premature rumors of reconciliation would fly and possibly cause problems.”  Anora sipped the wine a servant had placed on the table beside her.  “You come to Denerim on House Haris business, yes?  And you can stay at the Haris compound.” 

Lys nodded yes.

“Good.  Let me know when you do and we will arrange to meet.  I always go there to pick out new fabrics.  You can advise me.“

“I will.  I’ll make sure we have a selection of blue.”  Lys got a mischievous look.  “Although, I’ll include some golds and soft yellows.  You’d look lovely in those as well.  I’ll look forward to meeting with you again.”

“As will I.  I hope in improved circumstances.”  Anora rose.

“One more thing.  Father probably won’t tell you.  He received your letter and will deliver it to Alistair.  We will leave him at Dragon’s Peak for now, until everything settles.  I’m sorry.  I know King Maric promised he would acknowledge him.  It’s just not the time.  I spoke with Grand Cleric Elemena.  I emphasized that we’re merely postponing the acknowledgement.  It will happen, Lys.  We all want it.”

“I understand, Anora.  I…will you or Teyrn Loghain take that message to him?”

“Father will.”

“Good.  I’m glad.  Thank you for telling me.”

“I must return to the reception.  Your whole family must attend the wedding and my coronation.  Your mother’s instincts are good.  She should follow them, as I suspect she has so far.  You can all return to Highever when these sad events are over.  Goodbye Lys.”

* * *

 

[21]Thanks to herebedragons66 for letting me borrow her Demelza for my story.  If you haven’t read her story Unshaken by the Darkness – first (selfishly) finish this chapter -  then go read it.  It’s a f/Cousland – Loghain story too – but very different from this one and quite wonderful. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her efforts. She got me back on track in this chapter and I am so grateful for her help. If this chapter had not worked the rest of the story would have suffered, so I thank her for saving Lys and Ali and Loghain’s story. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and those who Reviewed this week: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, nh09jrb, katdancer2 and SnowHelm I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. It helps me keep going, knowing others enjoy Lys, Alistair, Loghain, Anora and their companions too.
> 
> There are appendices with background assumptions on timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. in AO3. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure (remove spaces and copy): archive of our /works/692656/chapters/1273563


	34. Leave Taking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:25 Dragon First Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

 “Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 34:  LEAVE TAKING**

* * *

**9:25 Dragon, First Fall  ===  Denerim**

“You’re going where?”  Queen Anora looked at her father, dumbfounded.

“I’m going to search for Maric.  I don’t believe he’s dead.”

“I don’t disagree, actually, but why do _you_ have to go?  We can send a ship or ships.  Send Cauthrien or another trusted officer to lead.  Or a noble.  Send Bryland.”

“If I want it done right, I need to go.  Cauthrien will stay to be your military advisor.”

“Father, you’re our advisor.  We plan to name you Chancellor.  How can you leave?  How long do you plan on being gone?”  How will we communicate with you?” 

“Anora, you are perfectly capable.  Cailan appears to have settled into his role.  I am not a political advisor and you have Cauthrien to lead the Shield and the army.  You and Cailan will be fine.”

“Fine?  We’re hardly prepared.  Either of us.  And what of the cost of this search?”

“Of course you are.  You more than Cailan, but you can manage him.  And we’ll be on board ship most of the time.  So not much more than the normal cost of maintaining the ship and crew of the Mabari Rampant.”

“There will be a cost to maintain a ship in foreign ports over her home yard.”  She threw up her hands.  “We’ll see.  If it gets too costly we will call you home.”

“Yes, Anora.”

“Don’t patronize me, father.  This is serious.  My questions are quite relevant.  You claim I’m ready to rule.  Well here I am, ruling.”

“Anora, you’re right.  The cost is a concern.  We will need to monitor our expenses.  As for the kingdom, administer it as it has been administered.  Use Seneschal Laurens and his staff to advise you on the details; he always took care of administrative tasks for Maric.  A good staff is in place, use them.

“Settling disputes in the Bannorn shouldn’t tax you.  You know the nobles, the Bannorn and their wants, needs and relationships better than anyone.  On issues in Council, listen to the other nobles, weigh their suggestions, check with Laurens for precedence and, between the two of you, choose a path of action.  Forego any new policies for the first months.

“Just be careful of Howe and Eamon Guerrin; they will attempt to undermine each other and cause everyone problems when doing so.  I have confidence you can handle them.  Until we find out if we have active foreign enemies, there should be no need for major policy changes.  Be wary of Orlais, always, and of foreign entanglements of any kind.”

Anora took a deep breath and decided to voice her other concern.  “You thought Maric a fool for going to Wycombe.  Why are you less a fool for following him?”

Loghain stiffened.  “He is our King and my friend.  I don’t believe he is dead.”

“Father, Cailan is our King now and Maric would not thank you for abandoning him.”  She spoke gently.  “Didn’t you once promise Maric not to abandon Ferelden for the sake of one man?  Even if that man was Maric?”

She watched the father she loved struggle with his answer.  He cared about Cailan, but Maric…Maric was his brother.  Words from long ago echoed in his head.  ‘ _Keep him close and he will betray you.  Each time worse than the last.’  No!  This is not a betrayal.  I leave Cailan in Anora’s care.  She will be a fine queen._ He felt his stomach clench. _Maric.  Anora.  Alistair.  The three people he loved most.  His almost brother.  His daughter.  His almost son.  But Alistair would be safe at Dragon’s Peak.  Cailan would acknowledge his brother.  Anora would oversee them both._   “I need to search, Anora, if there’s any chance he’s alive out there.  He is Ferelden to me.  There is no difference.  Cailan will be safe in your care.”

Anora sighed, resigned.  _If father leaves, we need Bryce Cousland to advise us_.  She pushed on.  “And Teyrn Cousland?  If Redcliff or Amaranthine engineered his opposition, then we should bring him back to Court in your absence.  He should at least sit on the Council.  That should be done before you leave to make it clear you agree.”

Loghain rubbed his forehead, but did not respond.

“Father, you know why Maric went to Wycombe.  You know he believed Teyrn Cousland would be considered biased because of his ties to Antiva.  You know Bryce offered to go anyway.  Why are you being so bullheaded about this?  Bryce Cousland no more wants to be king than you do.”

“Anora…no he doesn’t.  But Cailan thinks he does.  And now is not the time to have that discussion with Cailan.”

“I would agree, if you weren’t leaving!”  Anora lost her conciliatory tone as her frustration with her father mounted.

“It’s another thing you will have to talk with him about in a few months.”

“No, we will have that first discussion before you go.  He will hear it from you.  Then, I can talk with about it again and quote you, not say I think my father would say this.”

Loghain sighed.  “Is that a royal order, Your Majesty?  It won’t be pretty.”

“No, it won’t.  And, yes, if an order is the only way to make you have the discussion, it is.  We can have the Cousland discussion, then you can tell him you’re leaving.  It should be a brilliant evening.”  

She whirled on heel to go, then stopped.  “One more thing, before you take ship.”

“What now, Anora?”

“Alistair.”

“We can’t acknowledge him right now.”

The glare she offered made Loghain chuckle.  “You do that well, Anora, but acknowledging-“

Anora waved her hand to silence him.  “When will you visit him, father?”

“Ah, a visit.  I’ll see him before I go.  I didn’t think you would join me this time.”

“No, it’s one thing for Lady Anora to visit, quite another for the Queen of Ferelden.”

“Well, at least I did one thing right.  I’m leaving in the morning for Dragon’s Peak, Anora.  We can have dinner when I return in three days?”

“Yes, father.  You can cheer us up during the meal with reports of Alistair.  Then we’ll  have brandy while we move on to the unpleasant topics.”

Loghain chuckled.  “You’ll do fine as Queen, Anora.  Your ‘monarch of the world’ attitude still works quite well.”

Frowning she muttered, “I’ll be happy to succeed as Monarch of Ferelden.”  Then she surprised him then by hugging him.  “I learned the attitude from you.  Hugging is something I learned from Eleanor Cousland.  You need to convince Cailan.  We need them back at court.”

He hugged her back.  “I’d forgotten that lesson, but you’re right.  Hugging is not a bad thing.”

**9:25 Dragon  15 Firstfall   ===   Dragon’s Peak Monastery**

The young templar sent to bring Alistair to the Knight-Captain’s study insisted he must come immediately.

“Fredic, look at me.  I’m filthy.  I’ve been sparring all morning.

“Knight-Captain said no matter.  He wants you right away.”

“Right, then, let’s go.”  _This is it.  They have no reason to keep me here.  They’ll send me off to one of the lesser monasteries.  I’ll be made to take vows and chase mages for the rest of my life._

He walked into the Knight-Captain’s office.  He crossed his arms pounding his fists on his shoulders, then he stood at attention before the Knight-Captain.

After a moment, the Knight-Captain looked up from the papers in front of him. 

“Initiate Alistair.  You have a visitor.  You will clean up, put on civilian clothes and report to the Dragon’s Rest.  Take extra clothes as you may spend the night and tomorrow with your visitor.  That is all.  Dismissed.”

“Ser.”  Alistair again gave a templar salute and left.  _Great.  Who is this damn visitor?  Surely he would say Teyrn Loghain’s name if it were him.  Maybe the visitor will take me away._

Alistair presented himself at the Dragon’s Rest, where the barkeep sent him to the rooms he usually shared with Teyrn Loghain.  When he arrived, the door stood open.  Teyrn Loghain looked up from the table where he had been perusing a map.

“Your Grace!”

“Alistair.  It’s good to see you.”  Loghain smiled.  “You look surprised.”

“I am, Your Grace.  I thought…well with…I thought…I didn’t expect you to visit me.”

“Maker, Alistair, of course I’ll visit.  It just wasn’t possible to get away until now.  And I distrust written messages where the Chantry is concerned.  Anora was afraid you’d think we were ignoring you.  I’m beginning to hate it when she’s right.”

Alistair sniffed and wiped his cheek, turning towards the fire in the hopes the Teyrn would not see.  He felt a hand on his shoulder.  “I’m sorry Alistair, the last few months have been…well I think a charge into the Void would have been more pleasant.”

Alistair smiled.  “Thank you for coming.  I did understand you were busy.  I just…well, thank you.”

“So,” Loghain continued.  “I brought horses and bows so we can ride tomorrow and food should be arriving shortly.” 

Alistair turned to face him. 

“Maker, boy, it is so good to see you,” Loghain said, and shocked him by drawing him into a bear hug.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Alistair chattered non-stop during dinner.  He told Loghain all about Cullen leaving, his own misgivings about becoming a templar, his training regimen and his classes.  He sensed Loghain appreciated the normality of their evening, an evening just like every other they had shared over the years.  In truth, he wanted it to be that way too.  When he finally ran out of talk, Loghain outlined his plans for the next day.  By then it was late, Loghain had ridden from Denerim and both were tired.

“I know you like to read these in private,” Loghain said, handing Alistair a letter.  He noticed how the young man’s face brightened.  _If the two of them ever meet again, I think they’ll find nothing has changed between them._

Alistair curled up on the cot to read.  The letter was quite short.

**9:25 Dragon   29 Kingsway**

_Dear Alistair,_

_I’ve never written to a friend who lost a parent.  I know you only met him once, but I also know, in his way, he cared for you very much.  I am so sorry.  For him.  For you, because you won’t get to know him.  For all of us who knew King Maric.  For Ferelden._

_Ferelden, ruled by King Maric, is all I know.  It was such a wonderful time growing up.  It once seemed so bright and shining and, now, all too brief.  I wonder if the rest of life will be like that.  Mostly sadness brightened by brief shining moments of pure joy?  I wish I could share all of them with you – sad or happy._

_I can’t imagine how horrible it must have been for you to find out and be alone.  If I could, I would be there,  hug you and stay as long as you wanted me._

_If you’re reading this, Teyrn Loghain must be with you.  I hope Teyrn Loghain’s visit will help.  He couldn’t come right away of course.  King Maric named him Regent when he left for Wycombe.  He expected Teyrn Loghain to work with Cailan while he traveled.  Kind of a practice rule for Cailan, with Teyrn Loghain to guide him, Papa said.  Once Cailan was crowned, the regency ended.  Anyway, as Regent, Teyrn Loghain had to make all the arrangements.  I’m not apologizing for him, just explaining.  If I could come see you…._

_I don’t know what else to say.  I would get so angry with King Maric sometimes, but I loved him too.  He was a good man who didn’t always do the right thing.  But he was going to.  We are all so sad.  I miss him.  I miss you.  I love you.  Always._

_The stars are very bright and clear over the sea from the garden wall tonight._

_Always Your, Lys_

In spite of its brevity, it still comforted him.  _I guess now I understand how she feels when I write my short notes._ It was good to know that Loghain really had been too busy to see him.  He curled up and fell asleep quickly, more content than he had been in months.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The next morning after a hearty breakfast, Alistair and Loghain set out on the now familiar ride to the Amaranthine coast. 

“You must have questions, Alistair.”

“Only if you want to answer them, Teyrn Loghain.  I mean, he was my father, but I didn’t know him.  He was your friend.  I know how lonely I felt when Cullen left and I’ll see him again, I think.  I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose someone you’ve known for decades.  He was like a brother to you wasn’t he?”

 “He was, Alistair.  My best friend.  My brother.  My king.”  Loghain glanced at him.  “I think you know a little of what it’s like to be far away from your best friend.”

Alistair gave a weak grin.  “Yeah, it hurts.  Sometimes it hurts too much to think about it.”

“It does, but I’d like to think about him with you.  I think he would like that.”

“He would?”

“He planned to acknowledge you at the August Landsmeet, Alistair.  All the plans were in place.  It has to wait now.  I’m sorry, but everything was too confused.  With opposition to Cailan we couldn’t introduce another heir.”

“Opposition?  To Cailan?  Who would oppose Cailan.  No one put me up did they?”  Alistair looked at Loghain apprehensively.

“No.  No, Teyrn Cousland.  Some banns proposed Bryce Cousland for king in the Landsmeet.  He almost won the vote.”

“Teyrn Bryce!  Why would he do that?”

“I’m not sure he did.  Anora believes others put these banns up to proposing Bryce without his knowledge.  I’m beginning to believe she’s right, but your brother isn’t.  He’s grieving and angry and needs someone to blame.  He’s chosen Bryce Cousland.”

“That’s awful.  Are the Couslands alright?”

“They’re fine.  They come to official Court events, but stay in the background.  I expect they will return to Highever soon.  I’ve no doubt they’ll return for the Guardian Landsmeet.  By then Cailan should have calmed down.  Anora will help him see sense.”

“So you won’t see Lys when you go back?”

“I don’t know.  Anora was going to arrange something, but I think they might be gone.  I thought it more important to see you.  I think Lys would agree.”

“You said you wanted to talk about King Maric.  Can you tell me some stories?  Just whatever comes to mind.”

“I can Alistair.  That’s a wonderful idea.”  He looked at the young man who so resembled his father and realized he was glad he had come.  _Thank you Anora.  I’m not sure I’d have actually come if you hadn’t made me mention it to you._    

“Well, there was this time your father insisted on riding when we traveled to South Reach on a particularly rainy day.  We tried to convince him we should use the carriage, but he refused.  He insisted horseback would be quicker, arguing the carriage would only get bogged down in the mud.  He had a point, but your father on a horse was always a disaster and never speeded up a journey….

They returned that evening tired and relaxed. 

“I wish I could stay for another day, Alistair, but I do need to head back in the morning.”

“I’m just glad you came, Teyrn Loghain.  I feel a lot better.  I suppose that’s selfish, but, well no one here knows who I am, so I couldn’t talk about it.”

“I think I did all the talking.  It was nice to share those memories of good times.  I’ve been pretty angry at Maric for disappearing these past few months.”

“You don’t think he’s run away do you.  Like he did to the Deep Roads?”

“No.  I don’t think he’s dead either, Alistair.  I think the Demelza was captured and he’s being held somewhere.”

“Orlesians?”

“Possibly, no, probably Orlesians, but there are other possibilities.  Most of the other possibilities, however, would demand a ransom and then they would return him.”

Alistair frowned and stared at the Teyrn.  “You’re going to look for him aren’t you.  You’re leaving.”

“I am, Alistair.”  He saw anger and then disappoint flicker across Alistair’s face.  “You’ll be safe here until I get back.  Cailan badgered Maric to acknowledge you for years.  He’ll do it.  Maybe not in Guardian, but soon.  It will work out.”

Alistair took a deep breath, composed himself and smiled.  “Of course it will.  Please stay safe, Teyrn Loghain.  I don’t think King Maric would want Cailan to lose you too.”

“He wouldn’t want either of you to lose me, Alistair.  I’ll be fine.”

Loghain left the next morning for Denerim and Alistair returned to Dragon’s Peak.  Now he had no father and the man he considered his foster father was going away.  He sighed.  _I’m getting older and Teyrn Loghain is leaving.  I need to make sure I delay those vows or I’ll be a templar before he returns._   He began planning a prank. 

**9:26 Dragon  Firstfall  ===  Royal Palace, Denerim**

Loghain received a summons to his daughter’s rooms almost immediately upon his return to Denerim.

“Father, you look almost happy.”

“I am, Anora.  Thank you.  Visiting Alistair was the best thing I could have done.”

Anora raised her eyebrows.  She had not expected this reaction. 

“He’s just a wonderful young man, Anora.  Very like his father, but different in other ways.”

“How did he take your leaving?”

“He worried that you and Cailan would miss me.”

Anora smiled.  “That sounds like him.  I wish I could still visit.  First we need to make Cailan see sense about Bryce Cousland, then we can work on getting Alistair acknowledged.”

“I agree, but we won’t accomplish that today.  Why did you summon me, Your Majesty?”  Loghain asked, a smirk on his lips.

“I summoned you, Teyrn Mac Tir, because I must go to Gwaren House and I need an escort.”

“To Gwaren House, why?

“There are some things I left there that I want to retrieve.”

“And Erlina can’t do this?”  He saw a glare beginning.  “I yield, Your Majesty.  Gwaren House it is.” 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Gwaren House was almost empty.  Loghain kept much of it closed up since Anora moved out.  The rooms he kept open on the first floor were a salon, a small receiving room that attached to a large study, a small dining hall and a bedroom..  Anora headed directly for the receiving room.  As they entered, a young woman stood and immediately curtsied. 

_Lys._   He had seen her briefly during the royal events.  Now he noticed that she was thinner and more serious than he had ever seen her.  She looked older than her fifteen years.

“Your Majesty.  Your Grace.  Thank you for seeing me.”

Anora frowned.  “Lys, stand up.  If father is nasty I swear I’ll hit him.”

Loghain sighed.  “Lys, it’s good to see you.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Let’s at least sit.  Father, can we use your study?”

“Yes, of course.  There should be a fire laid.”  Loghain made quick work of lighting the fire and the three of them sat in chairs arranged in a semi-circle around the hearth.

“I asked to speak with you, Your Grace.  No one else put me up to-“

“-Lys, its fine.  I know you wouldn’t do anything to harm Cailan or Anora or me.  I’m coming to believe your father didn’t either.  I was angry, Lys.  I needed someone to blame besides Maric.  Cailan does too, I’m afraid.”

“Right.  King Maric went because father couldn’t.  Antivan influence and all.”

“Yes.  I don’t always agree with your father’s emphasis on trade, but Maric did and they acted on it.  This time was no different than scores of others.  Cailan will come around Lys, it will just take time.  Unfortunately, I contributed to his misplaced beliefs by agreeing with him.  I’ll try to fix that.  Fortunately, Anora never agreed with us and she’ll work on convincing him as well, after I leave.”

“Leave?”

“I’m going to search for Maric.”

“You think he’s alive!  I do too.  I think the Orlesians took him,” she became the animated young woman he remembered as she spoke.  “Then I think they influenced those Banns to propose father.  You know they all pledged or supported Redcliffe or Amaranthine.  And Bann Esmerelle tells everyone that father made her propose him, but he never talks to her.  He has no need to, she’s unpleasant and she’s pledged to Arl Howe.  Reputedly in more ways than one.”  She stopped.  “Sorry, got a little excited.”

Loghain chuckled.  “It’s nice to know you still do Lys.  And that all makes sense.  We’ll look into everything, of course… well, Anora, Her Majesty will see to it.”  He looked at Anora and she nodded.  He rubbed his forehead.  “I have better news.  I just came from visiting Alistair.”

Lys rewarded him with a huge grin.

“I took your letter.  He wrote a quick note this morning.”  He handed her the note.  “He’s fine Lys.  We had a good visit.”

“Cailan will acknowledge him, but not right away, Lys.”  Anora added.

“Of course.  It would be too confusing right now.”  Lys stood.  “I should go.  Thank you for taking the time to see me.” 

They all stood.  There was an awkward silence.

“I’m just pleased you saw him.  I was worried he’d feel abandoned.  I know he didn’t know his father, but…well I’m glad you went.” 

Lys hesitated, then hugged Loghain.  “I’ve missed you Teyrn Mac Tir.  I wish you luck.  I hope you find him.”

Loghain stepped back with hands still on Lys’ shoulders.  “But?”

Lys smiled at Loghain’s query.  She had not realized her doubts were so obvious.  “Are you sure Cailan doesn’t need you more?  You could send others.  Join them in six months.”  She hesitated.  “Maybe Papa would be back at Court by then.”

Anora looked hopeful as her father seemed to consider Lys’ sensible suggestion. 

“No, Lys, I need to go.  Perhaps I’ll come back after six months and send others to follow up on what I find.  I need to organize the initial search.”

“We have a good intelligence network at House Haris.  How can I contact you if we hear anything?”

Both Loghain and Anora looked surprised.  This wasn’t a source they had considered.  “Contact Anora, she’ll know how to reach me.”

“I will.  Keep safe, please, Teyrn Loghain.  I want you to find King Maric, but we need you too.” 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Anora and Loghain climbed into the carriage that would take them back to the Palace.  _Apparently, Queens did not ride or, Maker Forbid, walk._   _And I become a captive audience for her thoughts._

As if on cue, Anora asked, “It doesn’t concern you that everyone who loves you asks the same questions.  Why must you leave to search?  How can you…abandon, I’ll be blunt, abandon Cailan?”

Loghain sighed.  “Cailan has you Anora.  Maric needs me.”  He stared at the floor of the carriage.  “Anora, I’m not changing my mind.  Can we agree to disagree and end this?”

“It seems we must.”  She looked out the carriage window so her father would not see the tears welling up.  “It seems Maric always comes first with you.”  She felt him shift.  “No, it’s fine.  I accept it.  The discussion ends now.”

By the time they reached the Palace, Anora had composed herself.  “I will see you at dinner, Father.  The Cousland conversation will take place before you go.”

“Yes, Anora.  I’ll join you for the meal.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“My decision is final, Loghain.  Teyrn Cousland will not be one of my advisors.  He will not sit on the Council.  He opposed me.  I understand he broke no laws.  I understand that he followed tradition.  But he must understand, as must you, that actions have consequences.”  Cailan smirked.  “You’ve been telling me that for years Loghain.  See.  I did listen.  The consequences for Teyrn Cousland’s opposition are loss of influence and power.  I am not my father.  He is not my advisor or my friend.”

Anora sat quietly, surprised at the vehemence of Cailan’s remarks.  _It’s not like him to hold a grudge for so long.  He usually listens to reason eventually._   _Perhaps in time.  I’ll have to let it rest for now._

Loghain rubbed his forehead.  “The at least see Fergus.  He didn’t oppose you.  He is your friend.  He’s been a good one over the years.”

“Has he?  Or did he befriend me at his father’s behest and to the benefit of his family, I might add?”

“Maker, Cailan, where did all this suspicion come from?”

“You.  Your been spouting conspiracy theories ever since I can remember.”

“About Orlais, Cailan.  Theories based in fact.  Not fantastical ones about the Couslands.”

Anora sighed.  “I think you must agree to disagree.  Father, you’ve made your position known to us.  Cailan, love, it’s getting late.  Perhaps we should retire.”

“Yes, only one more thing Loghain.  This search for a dead man you’re so set on.”

Loghain swallowed.  “A man I think still lives, who happens to be your father.”

“Yes, my father.  He’s dead, Loghain.  Don’t you think you are more needed here?  I know we disagree, but I do value your advice.  As much as I trust ‘Nora, she is not you.  And what happens if you find him?  Does he return and push me off the throne?”

“I don’t know Cailan, that will be something you and he will need to discuss.  He will do what’s best.”

“Best for whom?  Me?  Him?”

“Ferelden, Cailan.”

“Did he do what’s best for Ferelden when he left on this trip?”

“He thought so, Cailan.”

So you will go too.  Just leave us, because this search for a ghost is best for Ferelden?”

“Yes, because I do think that.”

“And if I forbid it.  If I deny you the Mabari Rampant?”

“Then I will find another ship, Your Majesty, but I hope you won’t do that.”

Cailan sagged in his chair, suddenly looking very young.  He flicked his hand in the air.  “Just go Loghain.  You’re right.  Anora will be here for me.  For Ferelden.”  He looked up, defiant again.  “And my uncles.  They seem to want to advise me.”

Anora would gently urge her father’s arguments on Cailan as the months passed, when he hurt less and his anger abated.  She was careful.  She did not want to ruin the partnership they had begun to establish.  It proved difficult.  As her father had warned, factions developed and Arls Howe and Guerrin stirred the pot.  She worked hard to keep the lid on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Some Headcanon Thoughts – I usually don’t insert notes about my headcanon, but I feel moved to do so here. In my view, 9:25 Dragon is a pivotal year for Ferelden. Maric’s disappearance/death changes everything. One path dead ends abruptly, closing off possibilities and a separate one begins, which provides quite different results by 9:30 Dragon. Two key changes:  
> 1\. Couslands in disfavor and how I developed that concept. When Cailan claims to have not met a ~20 year old Cousland at Ostagar I always wonder ‘how is that possible?” This is my answer. Of course, Cailan has met Lys, but ‘officially’ could mean she was never presented at court. Why? Because her family was in disfavor. Why? Because Bryce opposed Cailan at the Landsmeet. My headcanon, but based on facts from the game. This angle removes a key advisor and opens the path for others to gain Cailan’s ear.  
> 2\. Loghain leaving for two years to chase after Maric is unforgiveable in my mind. By abandoning Anora and Cailan at the start of their reign, he’s breaking the promise he made to Maric after West Hill. He’s putting Maric before Ferelden. It’s an act of betrayal in my opinion, fulfilling Flemeth’s prophecy. Then there’s the hurt to Alistair. Don’t get me wrong, I love Loghain, but I disagree with this action, as do others who love him too. And yes, someone should search for Maric, just no Loghain for two years.
> 
> Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her efforts. She got me back on track in these last two chapters and I am beyond grateful for her help. If this chapter had not worked the rest of the story would have suffered, so I thank her for saving Lys and Ali and Loghain’s story. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and those who Reviewed this week: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, nh09jrb, katdancer2, dustywalker, Pollyanna24 and SnowHelm I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. It helps me keep going, knowing others enjoy Lys, Alistair, Loghain, Anora and their companions too.
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> There are appendices with background assumptions on timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. in AO3. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure (remove spaces and copy): archive of our /works/692656/chapters/1273563


	35. Darkening Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:26 Dragon, Guardian and Drakonis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 35: DARKENING DAYS**

 

* * *

**9:26 Dragon, Drakonis   ===   Royal Palace, Denerim**

**9:26 Dragon, Drakonis   ===   Royal Palace, Denerim**

Cailan knocked on the door to Anora’s suite of rooms.  He could have barged in when he heard the voices, but that would defeat his purpose.  He wanted a quiet evening with his wife, not another argument with the Queen.  Normally a servant would open the door; instead, the Arl of Amaranthine held the door ajar for him.

“Anora, I hoped you would be alone.”  Cailan noticed that she looked tired and exasperated.  He stared at the man holding the door.  “You’re here late, Arl Howe.  What could be so important that it requires attention, now?”

“I hope I am not preventing a _tryst_ , Your Majesty.”  Arl Howe’s smile did not conceal his condescending tone.  “I needed to speak with Queen regarding my daughter, Delilah.”

Anora ignored the Arl and stood to greet her husband.  “The Arl was just leaving, Your Majesty.  His daughter will become one of my Ladies-in-Waiting.  He wished to discuss the necessary arrangements, since the Arlessa does not come to Court.” 

 _And she’s wishing I would leave too,_.  “Arl Howe?”  He looked pointedly at the diminutive man who showed no signs of leaving.

“I’m sure anything you need to discuss with the queen can include me, Your Majesty, after all, I am your advisor.”  Howe’s smile seemed pasted on. 

 _It never reaches his eyes._    Cailan cocked his head to one side and returned the smile.  “Surely not in _all_ things, My Lord, Arl.”

Anora almost smirked.  She recognized that look.  King Maric wore that same expression when he was about to emasculate a courtier.  Cailan was not as effective as his father, but he was king.  She realized, as the Arl continued to loiter, that he had misunderstood Cailan’s smile.

Cailan tone became clipped and deliberate.  “I’ll try to be more clear, My Lord Arl.  I will speak with my wife, the Queen, in private.  Leave us, Arl Howe, now.”

Startled by the harsh tone from the young king, Howe stepped back.  “I only meant, Your Majesty-

“-Howe, I don’t care what you meant, I asked you to leave.  Yet here you stand.”

Howe looked at Anora, who showed no emotion in voice or expression.  “Good night, Arl Howe.”

Howe bowed, stiffly to the queen, then to Cailan and left.

“Cailan, I’m sorry, he-

“-is an ass, Anora.  I know.  We’re surrounded by asses.  You don’t have to lecture me again.  Eamon is bad, but Howe is worse.”  Cailan looked at his wife.  He laughed, bitterly, throwing up his hands.  “What am I saying, they’re both terrible.  I never thought I’d say it, but I miss your father.” 

“Howe is useful, Cailan, annoying, but useful.  As is Eamon, but they both bear watching.  So they are better here with us, than plotting alone in their keeps.”  She rubbed her forehead, brushing a stray hair away.  “Besides, someone must keep the lid on the pot.  Apparently, that someone is me and sometimes I need to speak with them.  Or they with me.  They both want to be made Chancellor.  They think I will influence you to do their bidding.  I’ve no doubt Delilah will be asked to spy.”  She laughed, bitterness creeping in behind the mirth.

“Chancellor?  My father had no Chancellor, just the Seneschal.”

“Your father had my father and Bryce Cousland.  He didn’t need to name a Chancellor.”  Anora looked troubled.  “Perhaps we should open discussions with Teyrn Cousland.  Or with Fergus.  We need someone to balance these two Arls and no one has the stature to do that.  Arl Bryland tries, but he rarely succeeds against them.”

Cailan glowered.  “Do you think your father would approve the rehabilitation of a man who opposed me?  Who betrayed my father and years of friendship with both of them?” 

“Yes, I do, my father made it clear before he left that he supports bringing Bryce back as an advisor.”

“And I made it clear that I do not.”  Cailan continued in a calmer tone.  “I know you’re worried.  I am too, but Loghain is not here.  And I will not receive a Cousland.”

“Bryce Cousland didn’t oppose you, Cailan, a group of banns, none of whom were pledged to him, put him forward.  I don’t believe he led that effort.  He withdrew immediately after the required vote. 

“And yet he did not say a word before the vote.”

“Exactly, Cailan, he said nothing.  Traditionally, the opposing candidate speaks to justify his opposition.”

“He could have taken that opportunity to deny his opposition.”

“In hindsight, you’re right, but he thought his silence did that, Cailan.  He’s very traditional.  He followed precedence.  I suspect my father would have done the same, kept his silence, were he in Bryce’s position.”

Cailan traced her cheekbone with his finger.  Anora closed her eyes. 

“You assume that is so.  I don’t believe it.  I trusted Fergus and his father.  They almost had me fooled, just as they fooled your father and mine.  They are Couslands.  They will always try to take power.  You know they opposed Calenhad and supported the rebellion against King Arland.  Before that, they rebelled against their liege and stole Howe lands.  They are opportunists.  They descend from Calenhad too and think they have a claim.  I think I have been restrained.  I haven’t banished them or put forth a bill of attainder.”

“On what would you base such an action, Cailan?  Bryce Cousland has done nothing wrong.  Even if he had opposed you, all the actions at the Landsmeet were legal.  And Howe tells whomever will listen that ancient story of alleged Cousland perfidy.  Such things happened in the age of war lords.”

“An excuse can always be found to banish a lord, or so Eamon tells me.  Don’t tempt me to do what Howe and Eamon urge, if you care about them so much.”

“Cailan, Highever keeps the rest of Ferelden strong through its trade and wealth.  Ruining Highever would beggar the rest of Ferelden.  The fact that either of them urges such unlawful acts condemns them and bolsters my argument in support of the Couslands.”  She covered her face with her hands.  “Maker, Cailan, why can’t you see that.”

“Isn’t that the point, Anora.  Highever holds too much power.  Some of that trade could come through Amaranthine or Denerim.  Highever has no trade with Orlais.  That could change as well.”

“If Arl Howe was so talented, why doesn’t more trade come through Amaranthine already?  Highever never prevented Amaranthine from trading where they chose.  Amaranthine is the third largest port in Ferelden.  It’s in a prime location.  Howe has family contacts in Tevinter and Markham, yet he does not make the most of them.

“Who proposes trade with Orlais?  Eamon?  Teagan?  There is no ban on trade with Orlais?  Why haven’t they already expanded it?  Eamon and Howe benefit if you hurt Highever, but Ferelden will suffer. 

“There are good reasons the Couslands do well.  They’ve built their economy at home and their trade relations abroad over generations.  Now others want to benefit from that effort, but if they try to take over Highever, they will fail.  The Nevarrans, Antivans, and Marchers won’t trust them as they do the Couslands, and trade will decline.  Nothing with Orlais or Tevinter can replace that.

“Bryce and Fergus are not the opportunists.  Eamon is an opportunist.  Arl Howe is an opportunist.  It’s likely one of them set up the banns to propose Bryce at the Landsmeet.  Bryce and Fergus, they were and are friends and staunch royalists.  I think your father would agree.”

“A fine speech Anora, but neither my father nor yours is here to support you.  Bryce Cousland opposed me and then your father ran off on this pointless search.  Do you think _my_ father would forgive either of them.  Even if he would, I won’t forgive the Couslands.  I don’t agree with you and you will remember who is king, Anora.  I will not support it.”

“Then I suppose we are at an impasse.”

Cailan reached out to cup her cheek, but Anora drew away.  “I think not tonight.”

“We had our differences, but I miss Loghain too, Anora.  Once he returns we will have your balance.  I’m angry at him for leaving, but I will receive him back at Court.  We don’t need Bryce or Fergus Cousland.”

“Don’t you miss Fergus, Cailan?”  She saw the flash of pain, then anger in his expression.

“Yes, I miss the man I thought was my friend.  I don’t miss the stranger who stood opposed to me.”

“And father?”

“I just said I miss him too.  Have you heard from him?”

“Not since the note from Ostwick.”

Anora moved away to stand at the window.  The late summer sun slanted in as it sank into the hills beyond Fort Drakon.  Cailan followed and slipped his arms around her waist.  She stiffened. 

Anora relaxed as he pressed his lips against her neck.  She  leaned against him.  “He should never have gone.  We both need him here.  He always leaves me to run after Maric.”

Cailan kissed her hair.  Then took his arms from around her waist and began to undo her braids. 

“I thought I said-“

“-I know what you said, ‘Nora.  But I didn’t come here to argue.  I’m sorry.  Howe threw me off.”  He continued pulling out the pins until the two braids fell below her waist, then put the pins on the table next to them.  He loosened the ties, which held each braid in place and slowly unbraided each of them, running his fingers through the golden hair until it spread across her back.

“Cailan.”  Chills ran down her arms each time his fingers gently massaged her scalp and neck before running through the waves of hair.

“Yes, love?”

“You’re impossible.”

“Yes, I am”  He lifted her hair and kissed her neck, moving forward until he reached a spot just beneath and behind her left ear.  She shuddered as he kissed and then flicked his tongue against it.

“Should I stop?”  he whispered seductively into her ear

He felt, rather than saw her smile.  “No.  You can be quite persuasive, you know.”

He laughed.  “If only I could translate it to the throne room and Landsmeet.”

“You could you know, if you tried a little harder.”  She turned and put her arms around his neck.  He began to explore her gown’s fastenings.

“So you and Teagan say.”

“If you won’t listen to me, listen to Teagan.”

Cailan sighed.  “I would gladly listen to you, Teagan, even your father.  Unfortunately, we have Eamon and Arl Howe instead.  However much I might dislike them I value their advice.”  He stopped his explorations.  “Anora, I would very much like to make love to you tonight.  Can we put talk of advisors in abeyance until morning?”

Anora buried her face in his shoulder.  “As you command, Your Majesty.”

He chuckled.  “Oh, if only ruling Ferelden were this simple.”  He bent down, stroking her neck.  As she leaned against his fingers, he nibbled at her lips, seeking entry.

When Anora acquiesced, his tongue explored every corner, before entangling itself with hers.  The kiss deepened as his hands moved to her chest and through her dress, he felt her nipples.  Gently, he rolled one between his thumb and forefinger, lightly pinching it. 

She whimpered when he stopped, his hands moving to her shoulders.  He slid her dress down her arms.  She had not realized he had loosened the lacing.  The dress fell to the floor around her feet.

Anora felt exposed and vulnerable standing in the window as the setting sun illuminated her.  “Cailan please, someone will see us.”

He untied her breast band.  She stood in the sunlight clad only in her smalls.  Cailan stepped back, and smiled.

“You’re so beautiful, please, don’t move.  Only the birds and squirrels can see you.  They only see your hair, Nora, shining in the sunlight.  He grabbed her hands as they moved to cover her breasts.  “Don’t.  I love seeing you like this.”

“Cailan,” she whispered, “I-

“-hush.”  He kissed her again, this time his left hand, on the small of back, pressed their hips together.  His right hand found her bare breast and began to massage it. 

Anora moaned quietly, as her arms raised and encircled his neck.  He moved against her, heating something deep inside.  Before she could respond, he lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom.  Laying her on bed, he remained standing.  His fingers ran around the edges of her smalls.  First around the top, then each leg.  As he did, he bent down and began licking and sucking on her nipples. 

She grabbed the coverlet beneath her as she arched.  “Cailan.”

He slipped a finger inside her smalls finding her already wet.  Teasing, he purposely avoided her most sensitive spots as she arched and pressed trying to connect.

“Cailan, please.”

He continued to tease, his other hand remaining at her breast, his kisses moved to her stomach and then to her navel.  As his mouth he reached the top of her smalls, his thumb pressed against her and she moaned as he rubbed and flicked, then slipped a finger inside her.  He brought her to the edge then, suddenly his hand was gone.  She writhed and opened her eyes. 

Her husband smirked, as he slowly raised his tunic over his head baring his chest.  One candle had been lit, it’s light glinted off the dusting of chest hair.  He cocked his head.  “I thought you might enjoy a show.”

“A show?”

He grinned again, loosening the ties of his trousers.  He’d clearly planned the seduction, as he wore no smalls.  Anora swallowed feeling a clenching deep inside.

“Quite the impressive view, Your Majesty.”

He walked back to the bedside and ran a finger from Anora’s breasts to her hips.  She shuddered. 

“I hope you plan to finish what you started.”

He smiled.  “We have all night, love.  We can finish more than once.  Slipping her smalls off, he ran his fingers through her curls, teasing, and then slipped a finger inside her.  She let out a surprised gasp.  His thumb massaged her as he thrust a second finger inside.  Anora threw her head back, eyes closed again as she quickly regained the peak where he had abandoned her.  He leaned down to renew his attentions to her breasts.  Then trailed kisses up and across her neck to her mouth.  He caught her mouth with his as she came.  His fingers continued to thrust, pushing her over the edge and keeping her there.  Finally, he climbed onto the bed beside her as she relaxed, her breathing still ragged.

They lay quietly as she calmed.  Before he could continue, she surprised him by pushing him onto his back and straddling him.  Pressing against him, she kissed his neck and moved down his body to his nipples.  Nipping and licking, she reached down and captured him, massaging his already stiff length and running her thumb around the head. 

“Maker, Anora,” he whispered.  “You continue to surprise and delight.”  He sighed, then slipped his hand between her legs. 

Still wet, Anora surprised herself at how quickly she responded to his touch.  She adjusted her position and slid onto him.

Cailan bent his knees and Anora leaned against his thighs as they thrust against each other.  He kept massaging her sex with one hand as he held her hip with his other.  As she slipped over the edge for the second time, crying his name, he released with a groan.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Cailan lay on his back.  Anora’s head rested on his chest; her right leg was thrown over his as she snuggled next to him.  His hand played with her hair.

“We’re married, you know, you don’t have to court me any longer.”

Cailan chuckled.  “I rather enjoy courting you, my love.  I’m finding it much more rewarding than my old adventures during evenings out with Teagan.”

Anora started and raised her head to gaze at him, brow furrowed.  He pressed her hand against his shoulder before she could lift it. 

“You’re joking?”  she asked warily.

“Well, yes.  And no.  I prefer spending my evenings with you, so that much is true.  And your wanton nature was a pleasant surprise.”

“Wanton?”

“Well, we didn’t exactly wait for the wedding night.  And, as you did tonight, you surprise me with your…enthusiasm.”

“What, you thought I’d just lie on my back whispering ‘think of Ferelden?’”

Cailan laughed aloud.  “No, but not take the lead.  Of course, you take the lead in everything else, so I don’t know why I thought that.”

“I don’t,” Anora said, flushing.

“Ah…no, I meant that as a compliment, love.  I mean with others, you take the lead to support me.  You don’t let Eamon, Howe or the other nobles intimidate you.  That gives me the courage to stand up to them too.  You’re very good.  I don’t feel like you order me about as much as you used to, just the others and that’s fine.  And, for the record, I like you taking the lead in bed.”  He kissed the tip of her nose.  “We’re becoming partners.”   

“So, taking the lead is wanton?”

“Well, as I said, we also didn’t wait for the wedding.  That did surprise me.  I didn’t realize the passionate little girl I fought ogres with still lurked behind that cool façade.”

Anora chuckled, remembering.  “And ended up covered in wine.  I thought we might both meet Andraste that day, when father found all those broken bottles.”  She giggled.  “All he said was, ‘At least it was the wine and not the whiskey or the Antivan brandy.’  As for not waiting…I wanted to be with you.  We were betrothed.”

“We’ve been betrothed since I was three and you were six, Anora.  You didn’t want me before.”

“I did, but you were obnoxious before.  Out every night with Teagan, or worse, Kendall.  Having every…woman…at the Pearl and who knows where else.  You changed after Summerday, as did I.”  She frowned.  “And if I had fallen pregnant, no one would have objected, as long as they knew it was yours.  Then, after, well it was a comfort for both of us … I cared for your father Cailan, but he could be infuriating at times.  I miss him too.”

“No argument there.  And, yes, it was a comfort.  It is a comfort.  You make me realize I am not alone.”

 _He has courted me well.  I expected overly expensive gifts and empty gestures, but he’s been wonderful.  And it didn’t stop with the wedding._ His gifts had matched her tastes so well, in fact, she wondered if Fergus coached him.  They were good friends, back then, so he probably had.  While she felt a twinge at that, she appreciated it.  Cailan functioned far better when he succeeded at things.  He did not handle failure or frustration well; and she did not prevaricate well when disappointed or displeased.  Cailan’s courting had pleased them both. 

Anora had kept her personal apartment, but most nights they spent together.  Sometimes in his rooms, others, like tonight, in hers.  If he was having other assignations, he hid them well.  He still spent evenings with Teagan and other nobles, but only to drink and perhaps flirt.  In truth, she approved, it was the politically wise thing to do.

Even when they did not spend the night together, they always met, however, briefly, to discuss their day.  Anora was not naïve.  She knew of the Palace’s secret passages and the possibility Cailan had a room elsewhere for secret trysts, but Erlina had not heard any rumors from the servants.  It appeared, that for now, he was the faithful husband and lover.  Unfortunately it had not yet resulted in a child.

 

**9:26 Dragon  ===  Ferelden**

The Teyrn, Teyrna, and Fergus attended the Guardian Landsmeet, but avoided most other social functions.  Using his close friends, Arls Wulff and Bryland, Bryce tried to gain a personal audience with the King and Queen.  After several rejections, he asked his friends to stop working on his behalf, fearing they would jeopardize their own standing with the monarchs. 

Eleanor received a personal note from Anora.  _Be patient.  AMTT_ was all it said.   

The months passed in a blur.  Lys had lost four childhood friends to death or distance:  Alistair, Loghain, Nathaniel, and King Maric.  She and Pippa had each other, but the boys they cared about were gone.  Nathaniel had written, when first sent away, to his cousin Felix near Markham, he was seventeen, but the letters had dwindled, and then stopped.  Worse, rumors told of Rendon Howe’s continued disparagement of his oldest son and his determination to keep him squiring in the Free Marches indefinitely.  Although not yet official, it appeared that Thomas, not Nathaniel, would inherit the Arling. 

Delilah, they heard, would become one of Queen Anora’s Ladies-in-Waiting; Pippa would become one as well, although she played down the honor.  Lys was thrilled for her and glad that Anora had extended the privilege, ignoring the Broughten’s strong ties to Highever.  She and Eleanor took it as a positive sign.

Thomas had been sent to South Reach to squire, as Maric had ordered before his death.  He remained there, but frequently returned to Vigil’s Keep.  The nobility speculated that Howe would wait for the banishment to expire or be lifted before he would announce Thomas as his heir.

Vaughn Kendall had gone to West Hills to squire, well away from any cities and their Alienages.  Urien Kendall had proposed Dragon’s Peak, but King Maric quickly vetoed it as too close to Denerim.  That Arl Wulff had two sons at home, who would keep the wayward young man in check, was a bonus.  In addition, Western Ferelden had fewer elves and no alienages to tempt him.  King Maric had believed Chasind and Avvar women, should he meet any, would be more than able to take care of themselves.

After their first Landsmeet, in Guardian, King Cailan and Queen Anora settled into a routine.  Anora administered the kingdom well, in spite of Arls Guerrin and Howe.  Fortunately, except where their specific interests were involved, they were happy to leave the administration to her, Teagan Guerrin, and Seneschal Laurens.  Teagan proved most helpful, but Anora wondered at his loyalties.  He had once been an advocate of Bryce Cousland, but now he seemed to support his brother.  What worried her most, however, was her exclusion from the two Arl’s private sessions with Cailan.  She feared what they might influence Cailan to do, particularly as they both fancied themselves expert diplomats and strategists.  Neither rivaled Teyrn Cousland or her father; but Cailan was not King Maric maintaining a balance between friends.  She could only hope that Cailan really did tell her everything the Arls discussed with him.

The Grand Cleric approached Anora just prior to the Landsmeet to inquire about Alistair.

“Your Majesty, it’s so kind of you see me here in the Chantry,” Grand Cleric Elemena said.

“I’m happy to visit you here, Your Grace.”  Anora looked directly at the Grand Cleric.

“What do you plan for Alistair?”

“Ah, to the point, Your Grace.”  Anora thought for a moment.  “As much as we want to acknowledge him in Guardian, it is Cailan’s first Landsmeet as King.  We believe it would be wiser to wait.”

The Grand Cleric gave a single nod.

“Please understand, we _will_ acknowledge him.  If this Landsmeets goes well, we will acknowledge him in August, at the Autumn Landsmeet.  We will follow the plan King Maric laid out last year.”

“Of course, Your Majesty, I understand he is a fine young man who shows great promise in his training.  Will you be visiting him?”

 “No.  I think a visit from the Queen of Ferelden, might attract too much interest.  We prefer he remain simply Alistair, until he’s acknowledged.  Better for everyone.”

“Yes, Your Majesty, I agree.”  The Grand Cleric nodded an oddly smug expression on her face.

**9:26 Dragon Guardian  ===  Dragon’s Peak, Ferelden**

After Loghain’s visit, Alistair continued to work hard as spring came to Dragon’s Peak.  Occasionally Alistair would indulge in daydreams.  As an initiate, he had more freedom within the confines of the Monastery then he had as a page.  He hiked the fields and woods.  At night, he would sometimes climb to the roof and star gaze, wondering if Lys ever did the same and if she thought of him.  He often saw the dot of light she called a satellite sliding across the sky from west to east at its steady pace.  He was not sure he quite believed that she could travel to another world, but that light moved steadily in the same path unlike a falling or shooting star.  Perhaps she could travel to another world.  He wondered what it would be like to have choices. 

Of course, he did have choices - he could stay or escape.  However, escaping held no interest if Cailan might yet acknowledge him.

 In Guardian, a Chantry sister from Denerim visited him.  She carried a sealed letter from the Grand Cleric.  The sister handed him the letter, instructed him to open it, read it and then burn it while she watched from the far side of the room. 

Alistair stood near the hearth with his back to the sister.  _No reason to let her see my reaction._   He tore the seal and unfolded the parchment.  In a few short sentences, Grand Cleric’s letter informed him that with King Maric’s death, King Cailan and Queen Anora had decided, and the Grand Cleric had agreed, that he would remain in the Chantry until he took vows as a templar. 

Teyrn Loghain had said he would remain _for now_ , but that is not what this letter said _.  I wonder if Loghain knew when he was here?_   Alistair did not want to believe that. _Cailan and Anora must have informed the Grand Cleric after he left._

He should remember, the letter continued, the Chantry must consider him a traitor and threat to the King’s rule should he escape.  Templars would seek him, just as they would pursue a mage.  Again Alistair stopped reading, surprised.  _As they would pursue a mage?  Do they have a phylactery for me?_   _I don’t remember them taking blood.  Maybe when we spar?  Can non-mages even have phylacteries?  Or is that just to make me think they do?_ He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply.  The letter closed on an even grimmer note.  Traitors, once captured, Grand Cleric Elemena reminded him, were imprisoned or executed. 

At the time he could not have told said why he wanted to keep this letter.  He just knew it seemed important that he did.  He kept a pencil or charcoal in his purse and some parchment flattened between his tunic and gambeson.  With his back to the sister, he managed to exchange the parchment with the Grand Cleric’s letter and throw the blank page on the fire along with the seals he ripped of the Grand Cleric’s letter.  Should anyone check, the remains of wax, ribbon and gold thread should be visible in the ashes.

He waited until the fire consumed the parchment, then spoke.  “Is there anything else I can do for you, Sister?”

The sister approached him and glanced into the fire.  “No.  I shall tell Her Holiness that you read and burned her letter as she ordered.  You are excused, Initiate.”  

Alistair bowed and left.  At least he knew what he faced, imprisonment or death if he left or the life of a lyrium-addled mage hunter if he stayed.  His faint hope for acknowledgement dissipated.  He chose the better of two horrible choices.  He would stay. 

Alistair continued to excel in his studies and training.  He enjoyed success, afterall, and saw no reason to deprive himself of the education and training Dragon’s Peak offered.  He consistently pleased his trainers with his templar skills.  His powerful cleanses and smites surprised the staff.  Usually, they believed, such strength only came from older, more experienced templars, who already used lyrium.  His sword and shield skills also pleased the trainers.  If his attitude had matched his skills, he would have been invited to take his vows at eighteen, like Cullen.  Instead, he lengthened his meditation sessions.  During the first part he meditated to improve his performance; during the remaining time he planned his next prank.   

His misbehavior troubled his trainers and superiors.  His jokes and smart remarks had always amused his fellow initiates and annoyed his instructors, but he had been mostly harmless.  The brothers and templars attributed the change to Cullen’s departure.  Apparently that exemplary initiate had more influence on his younger friend than any of them had realized.  Some also remembered the visits from Teyrn Loghain and thought the Teyrn’s absence might be the problem.  Whatever had caused the change, Alistair was no longer a model initiate.

Alistair now experienced repeated punishments for misbehavior and insubordination, which marred his record.  While he still defended younger initiates and pages from bullying, he also led his peers astray.  He found himself in the kitchen and stables all too often, although usually with his accomplices. 

Gone were the days he could pretend he hated the library and scriptorium and be sent there for punishment.  Oddly, he didn’t miss the scriptorium.  Being there, doing work he loved, only reminded him that he could never be a brother and work there.  Nor did he miss the free time to roam the monastery lands.  Walks in the fields and forests only reminded him of Cullen and that now, he had no friend.

Soon, his evaluations listed his accomplishments, then added a ‘but’.  But, he is impious.  But he persists in immature behavior.  But he exhibits no respect for his superiors.  But he finds inappropriate amusement in serious situations.  But he plays pranks.  But he jokes during Chantry services.  His jester’s carapace strengthened; it provided his armor and shield against the templar’s efforts to make him fit their mold.  His mask remained firmly in place, always pleasant, but often foolish or impudent.  Nothing he did alleviated the emptiness and anger within.

**9:26 Dragon  Guardian   ===   Highever**

Normally a happy month, this Guardian disappointed on all counts.  First, spring refused to arrive.  Late winter with its icy rain, chilling winds and cloud-ridden skies reflected, or perhaps amplified, the low spirits of the entire Cousland family.  Even Oren crept around his grandfather and only brightened when Lys took him to play with Jadyn and Sherpa.  Lys made sure to do this every day.  She hated seeing Oren, at two, so affected by the family’s misfortune.

Lys and Kai had spent a cold Wintermarch with the Rasiae upon returning from their annual winter visit to Cumberland.  The two returned to Highever in early Guardian while Lys’ parents and brother attended the Guardian Landsmeet.  Given the bad weather, Oriana had remained in Highever with Oren.  With her father gone, Lys had enjoyed visiting with Oriana, meeting with the House Haris factor in Higheverport to complete work Cousin Samuel had tasked her with in Cumberland, and training Sherpa to accompany her and Kai on long rides on Starfall and Hitch.  All through the days before her family’s return, she hoped the Court would be that wish.

From the grim faces of her parents and brother, as they entered the baily on their return, Lys could see her wish had not been granted.  Their presence at the Landsmeet had been tolerated.  Their reception during a formal event at the Palace had been icy.  Neither Lys nor Eleanor felt inspired to celebrate their joint Name Day.  Lys’s sixteenth Name Day, which should have signified her presentation at Court, and Eleanor’s forty-seventh Name Day passed with little celebration, at their request. 

Lys pushed to return to Cumberland.  In the past she had remained in Highever through Summerday and into Bloomingtide, enjoying spring and summer on the coast.  She missed Pippa, who remained at Court performing her duties as one of Queen Anora’s Ladies.  This year she wanted to escape to Cumberland with Kai and find solace in work.  Cousin Samuel had proposed she accompany him on a trade mission down the Minanter to Antiva City.  Lys desperately wanted to go.

“Mum, can we talk?”

Eleanor knew what this tentative approach meant.  Lys wanted to know if she had permission to go to Cumberland on the _Green Dragon_ , when it sailed for Cumberland in a few days.  The Haris ship had arrived on the morning tide.  With it came a note from Cousin Samuel telling Lys she could still join him if she returned with  the _Dragon_ when it sailed.

“I don’t know yet Lys.  I need to speak with him again.”  Lys’ somber look worried her.  Gone was the girl who would cry or yell or stomp off angrily.  The young woman before her would be more likely to make her own plans and go her own way, openly and calmly, despite anything her father said. 

“No, Mum,” Lys reading her mind, “I’m not going to sneak off.  My belongings are packed and ready, but I’ll tell you when I go.  I don’t expect to be stopped.  I no longer have a purpose here.  I need a purpose, the promise of a life and I can find that in Cumberland.  Here I’m just a silly girl doing nothing that can’t be better accomplished by any one of you.  I love Highever, but I was always going to leave it.  It just won’t be with a husband.  I can do more for Highever and myself with House Haris than I can here.”

Eleanor realized that working with Cousin Samuel offered more than tasks she or Bryce could offer at home.  Lys would not be presented at Court.  Lys would not take her place as a Lady-in-Waiting to Anora.  Her duties in the Teyrnir, while important, were ones Oriana could easily take on as the future Teyrna.  The life they had expected Lys to live was closed to her until Cailan received them into favor again.  If he ever did.  Admitting that, however, and letting Lys go was admitting his losses, and Bryce was not ready to do that.   

Bryce was hurting and having the family here, as usual, was a comfort.  He viewed Lys’ desire to be gone as another betrayal of sorts.  He was tired of betrayals.  Tradition was a comfort.  The family at home for Drakonis, Cloudreach, Summerday and Bloomingtide was tradition and comforting to all of them, except Lys.

Eleanor understood that, for Lys, all the traditions were broken.  _Pippa’s in Denerim.  Summerday memories of Alistair, Loghain and Maric, are bittersweet and never to be repeated.  The Guilds and merchants in Higheverport look to work with Alys and me, not Lys.  Even Sherpa reminds her of better times._   Eleanor could not deny it.  _Cumberland offers a clean slate, work to do, and a future ._   _Now to convince Bryce._

  **9:26 Dragon, Guardian   ===   Cumberland**

Lys breathed a sigh of relief as the _Green Dragon_ hove to approaching Cumberland harbor seven days out of Highever.  The winds had been favorable.  Her father had grudgingly allowed her to board just before the _Dragon_ departed Higheverport.  Hugging her tightly, he made her promise to return for Funalis as a condition of her leaving.  She felt excited and relieved.  Excited about the trip with Cousin Samuel and relieved that her fraught relationship with her father had eased.

Kai and Sherpa joined her at the ship’s rail.  Sherpa had weathered her second voyage quite well.  Kai had too.  Neither experienced the mild sickness that had beset them on earlier voyages, in spite of the continuing unseasonal weather.  The strong winds out of the southwest that had sped them along brought cool temperatures and cold rain.

“Remember, Kai, from now on I’m Layne Haris.”

In the past, Lys had used the alias when attending meetings at the Haris compound.  Assuming she was one of several Haris cousins, merchants took no particular notice when she joined Cousin Samuel and took notes or presented proposals.  If they met her later as Lys Cousland, it rarely mattered as she usually wore a mask.  No one remembered her as the girl in the meeting.

“I still think you should tell your parents you use a different name.  I think your father will be angry when he finds out.”

“I’ll worry about that when I need to, which is not today.”

“As you say, My Lady.”  Kailian folded her arms and frowned as the golden dome of the College of Magi glistened next to the Circle Tower.

“Careful, Kai.  You don’t want a mage with a glass seeing that frown.  They might turn you into a shem.”

Kai gave her a sidelong look, but retained her frown.

Sherpa huffed and butted Lys’ thigh.

“You too?  Well, he’s not here to tell is he?  So not today.”

Much work awaited in preparation for the trip.  They would leave Cumberland almost immediately.  A brief stay at the Haris Manor would precede a journey to Nevarra City.  The plan Cousin Samuel laid out included a  voyage down the Minanter, with stops in major trading centers, before entering the Amaranthine Ocean and sailing through Rialto Bay for Antiva City.  Once in Antiva City, the Haris group would finalize negotiations on several pending deals.  Lys would have time to visit Oriana’s family, the Falanni, in Antiva City.  She and Cousin Samuel might even pursue an enlarged alliance with the powerful Antivan merchant family. 

The House Haris group would be gone for several months, returning to Cumberland, from Antiva, by ship.  Cousin Samuel planned stops in Wycombe, Hercinia, Ostwick and Highever on their return voyage.  Lys should arrive in Highever just before Funalis, showing her father that she and Cousin Samuel would keep their end of the bargain.  

The Highever visit would suit both Cousin Samuel and Lys.  House Haris would confer with Bryce and his mining experts to move the Blasted Hills mining project forward.  More sturdy Ferelden ponies would be taken back to Nevarra for breeding stock.  Finally, they would visit  the Haris compound in Denerim to implement Cousin Samuel’s plans to expand the Haris presence in the capital.  Lys would spend the autumn months in Highever and visit with Anora in Denerim.  Cousin Samuel did not expect to return to Cumberland until Kingsway.  Lys planned to return with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Posting over the next two weeks may be delayed. I will be away from an internet connection for much of that time. Please bear with me, I’ll get back to regular posting after September 1st.
> 
> Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her efforts. Her wise advice improved Cailan and Anora’s scene. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine.
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and those who Reviewed recently: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, nh09jrb, katdancer2 and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. It helps me keep going, knowing others enjoy Lys, Alistair, Loghain, Anora and their companions.
> 
> There are appendices with background assumptions on timeline, character ages, calendar, fest days, travel distances, etc. in AO3. If such things interest you, please go to Archive of Our Own series, I Shall Endure (remove spaces and copy): archive of our /works/692656/chapters/1273563


	36. Travels Through Thedas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:26 Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**CHAPTER 36:  TRAVELS THROUGH THEDAS**

* * *

**9:26 Dragon  ===  Loghain Mac Tir**

Loghain left Denerim with no fanfare on the second of Haring, the final month of 9:25 Dragon.  The _Mabari Rampant_ , a Royal Navy caravel, sailed with the morning tide.  An unmarked, closed carriage delivered Loghain to the dock.  Anora remained in the carriage until the _Mabari_ became a speck on the horizon, then returned to the Palace and Cailan.  She remembered feeling alone at times in her life, but never as alone as she did that morning.

On board ship, Loghain settled into his cabin in the rear castle of the caravel.  Captain Cranagh offered his cabin, but Loghain refused.  The _Mabari_ had been the flagship of the Ferelden fleet before the _Demelza_ , so it included additional accommodations for guests.  Loghain took one of the guest cabins.  His cabin held a bunk, a table that folded down from the wall when needed and his sea chest.  A washstand, clothes hooks on the wall, covered sconces for candles and a shelf completed the furnishings in the narrow compartment. 

A week before the sailing date, Loghain discussed with Captain Cranagh and his navigator, Marcus, which maps and charts would be needed for an extended voyage north.  Then he had searched the Palace library and Naval Headquarters for any maps or charts he thought might be of use.  Loghain set the map cases on the shelf, securing them with straps so they would not fall off in rough seas.  The rest of his belongings remained in the sea chest, organized into boxes and bundles for easy access. 

Happenstance joined him in his cabin.  Hap had weathered a few trial voyages, including one to Gwaren as a young pup.  Anora insisted Hap would be terribly unhappy if left behind and insisted he go along.  Loghain thought perhaps she projected her own misgivings onto Hap, but decided not to voice those thoughts.  An extra blanket on the floor would suffice as a bed for the mabari.

A curtained alcove in the passageway between Loghain’s cabin and the captain’s quarters provided sleeping space for Gruffydd, his squire.  Gruffydd had boarded the day before to ensure Loghain’s belongings were loaded and stowed properly.  He was another sore point.  Anora had suggested Loghain bring Alistair on the trip, as his squire.  Loghain had thought that a splendid idea.  Cailan had vetoed it immediately, saying Alistair was safer at Dragon’s Peak. 

“What!  Take my half-brother to search for our father!  You want me to go to the Chantry and convince them to let him go, but not acknowledge him.  Which one of them will take my throne when you return?”

“Cailan, you would tell the Chantry, not ask.  This is your decision.  They cannot hold Alistair.”  Loghain replied.

“No?  He’s training as a templar.  They don’t let templars just leave.  And I can’t order the Grand Cleric to do anything.”

“The agreement King Maric made with her makes it your decision.  It clearly gives the king the right to determine Alistair’s future, not the Chantry.”

“Fine.  I determine he will stay where he is until I decide to acknowledge him.”

“Cailan, I don’t understand,” Anora said quietly, motioning to Loghain to keep silent.  “You wanted Alistair acknowledged.  You were angry with King Maric for not doing so.  Now you seem to think he threatens you.  What changed?”

“Father died.”

“But-“

“-if he had been acknowledged already, it would be clear that I was father’s choice for king, not Alistair.  Alistair would have a position, perhaps as squire to you, Loghain, or some other noble.  And a future in the army.  Now, who knows what the disaffected banns would do.  They supported Cousland.  Maybe they would support Alistair next year at the Landsmeet.  They might agree to acknowledge him and then put him forward.”

“Cailan, the banns supported Teyrn Cousland in part because of age and experience; and in part because everyone was shocked and fearful when King Maric disappeared.  They are no longer so fearful.  You’re proving yourself as king.  Not to mention, Alistair has no experience.  He’s sixteen.  He’s only qualified to be a soldier.  Isn’t that quite different?”

“Eamon suggests I wait.  Get through a few Landsmeets successfully, then think about Alistair, who as you point out is only sixteen, and should be in school.  Even Teagan thought it best to leave Alistair where he is for the present.  I agree.  Now can we talk about something else besides my half-brother?”

 Nothing Anora or Loghain said would change Cailan’s mind.  Given his growing anger at their suggestions, Anora and Loghain decided Alistair would have to stay at Dragon’s Peak for the time being.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Captain Cranagh and Loghain stood at the map table in the captain’s cabin. 

“I want to start our search at Alamar and Brandel’s Reach.  A wreck off the Amaranthine mainland would have been reported, but I’m not so sure about the islands.  We’ll circle both and send the lighter ashore to search any beaches.”

“You realize, Your Grace, that such a search will take time.  Is that how you plan to proceed all the way to Wycombe?”

“That’s how I plan to proceed all the way to the Void and back if necessary.”

“I see.  Well then, we are in for a long voyage.  Do you plan to enter ports to resupply and refit?”

“I plan to visit every major port, to see what there is to learn.”

“So, the guard you brought with you, they will assist you in this search?  I noticed they wear civilian armor.”

“Yes.  They can blend in as mercenaries.  I’ll conduct the ‘official’ inquires while they see what rumors can be unearthed in less savory locations.  It’s possible the _Demelza_ foundered at sea, but it’s more likely she was attacked, and captured or sunk.  We’ll look for sightings as well as signs of a wreck.”

“I see.  Perhaps I can offer a few of my crew to assist.  I’ve done the same on voyages to Orlais with the la…with King Maric.”

Loghain smiled.  “By all means, Cranagh, I welcome experienced informers.  And sailors will know the dock area better than my soldiers will.  Perhaps we can pair them up.  Might ease relations between them as well.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The _Mabari_ _Rampant_ proceeded to search the Fereldan Islands until well past First Day of 9:26 Dragon.  Once satisfied they had exhausted all possibilities, Loghain moved their search to the coast of the Free Marches between Ostwick and Kirkwall.  By mid Guardian, they made port in Ostwick, having found nothing. 

From Ostwick, they headed up the coast to Hercinia, then out to sea to investigate Estwatch.  The denizens of Estwatch were less than pleased to see a Fereldan naval vessel heave to just outside the harbor.  As an unofficial stronghold of the Felicisima Armada, the access to the harbor was controlled.  The _Mabari_ waited for the harbormaster to contact them.  It did not take long for a lighter carrying the harbormaster, to arrive on their port side, where a boarding ladder hung.

“You’ve a reason to approach, Fereldan?”

“Ay, we do.  We’re searching for a Fereldan ship.  We would gladly negotiate for any information you might have.”

“Anyone in particular you seek?”

“I’ve worked with Captain Isabela in the past.  I think she calls herself the Queen of the Eastern Seas.” 

“What makes you think she’s here?”

“We sighted the _Siren’s Call_ a few days ago heading in this direction.”

“And the ship you seek?”

“We’ll discuss that with Isabela.  And no, we do not think she took it.  We seek information only.”

Realization dawned on the Harbormaster’s face. “The _Demelza_?  Is that the ship you seek?  The ship that was lost with your King?  You think it’s here?”

Loghain stepped up to the rail.  “No, but we think if any rumors of the _Demelza_ ’s fate are known, they would be known here.”

“Negotiate, huh?  What’s to stop us from simply taking your ship?”

“Nothing, if you care to expend enough men and ships to defeat us,” Loghain replied.  “I can also assure you any agreements, official or otherwise, between Fereldan and a member or members of the Felisicima Armada will end with the taking of the _Mabari_.”

“And if one of us took the _Demelza_?”

“Then, I suspect, there would be a ransom request for the King and officials.  Unless it was done for hire.  In which case, as I said, we will negotiate for information.”

“I’ll tell Isabela you seek her.  Is there a name I should use?”

“Tell her Ser Gwaren wants to talk.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“So, sweet thing,  you’re searching for your late king?”  Isabela agreed to meet Loghain on her ship.  The _Mabari’s_ lighter had delivered him to the _Siren’s Call_ , which lay at anchor in the Estwatch harbor.

“I’m hoping he’s not ‘late.’  ”

“And what do you want from me, Ser…Gwaren?”  Isabela smirked as she said his name.  She placed two glasses of whiskey on the table and sat opposite him.

“Help.  I can’t search quietly.  You can.  I will continue with my very visible search along the _Demelza’s_ route.  If you agree, you will enquire about the _Demelza_ , quietly, as you go about your normal business.  We’ll meet in Llomerynn at the end of Cloudreach and, depending on what we find, decide if our partnership should continue,” Loghain put a pouch of coins on the table between them.  “There will be more in Llomerynn.”

“Depending on what I find?”

“Only in part.  A bonus if you find anything useful.”

“Hmmm.  This could cause me trouble, you know, Ser Gwaren.”

“Only if you’re careless.  You’re curious.  No one will find it unusual if you ask questions about the missing Fereldan King or his ship.  I’m not asking you to rescue him, just find out if the _Demelza_ or a ship resembling her has been sighted and where.”  Loghain rubbed his neck.  “It’s possible the _Demelza_ was captured, all aboard killed and the ship taken over by the attackers.  Or most killed and the king and his companions made prisoners.  Tracking the _Demelza_ may lead to nothing, but I must try.”

“And you search for what, kitten, wreckage?”

“Answers, but yes, wreckage too or sightings.  In a remote spot, wreckage might have been missed.  Or rumors, in the ports we visit.”

Isabela stood, leaned over the table, grinning, to take the coin pouch, leaving Loghain with no doubt about her attributes.  “I doubt that any place along the eastern shore of the Free Marches is that remote.” 

What coast would be?”

“Some of the coast along Rialto Bay, the east coast of Rivain, or the islands off Seheron.  Other shores, even farther afield.  There are unknown shores across the Sea and beyond Par Vollen where few dare sail.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.  Thank you.”  Loghain drank the last of his whiskey and stood to leave.

“Sure you won’t stay for supper?  I can have it served here for just the two of us?”

“I’ll see you Llomerynn in a month.”

Isabela watched his retreating back.  _Pity, sweet thing.  You’re definitely a man I’d like to know better._

**9:26 Dragon   ===   Melysande Cousland**

**9:26 Dragon   Nevarra City**

_Dear Mum,_

_I know, I’ve been remiss in not writing sooner, but preparing for the Minanter trip has kept Kai and me quite busy._

_This is possibly the most exciting thing I’ve ever done.  Only my trip to the Blasted Hills can compare with a Minanter River journey.  Cousin Sam expects the trip to take ten to twelve weeks, including the stops along the way.  We’ll visit Hasmal, Tantervale, and Starkhaven.  Staying at the Haris compound won’t be like our visit to the Vael cousins, I suspect.  From Starkhaven we go to Ansburg and finally, Bastion on Rialto Bay.  We’ll take ship there and sail to Antiva City._

_Right now, we are in Nevarra City.  From here, we take a smaller boat to the docks by the great Imperial Highway Bridge.  Our galley and barge are too large to ‘shoot the arches’ of the bridge, so the barge and galley await us to the east of the Highway.  The larger vessels, which trade down the river to the Amaranthine Ocean, dock to the east; those that trade with Nevarra City and Hunter Fell up river dock to the west.  Caravans take goods north to Tevinter and south to Cumberland.  Wagons took our trade goods directly to the barge from the Haris Manor, while we went to Nevarra City._

_Two troops of Hrothgar’s Wrath will shadow our progress from the River Road as we sail down river.  A good road I’m told, although not as well maintained as the Imperial Highway.  Lieutenant Ernst said it is graded and patrolled from its start in Hunter Fell all the way to Wycombe.  The Wrath should be able to keep up with our progress on the river._

_I think you said, when we traveled to the Blasted Hills, that you had never been to Nevarra City.  I have, but only briefly, so I am not missing this chance to explore.  Unlike Cumberland, Nevarra City shows far less Orlesian influence, although many wear masks.  Here the wearing of masks and head coverings provides practical protection from the sun and the windstorms blowing in off the Silent Plains.  I prefer wearing a silk headscarf and my partial silk or chain masks to the heavier full-face ones.  The chain masks are lined with silk, so even if they get warm from the sun, they don’t burn my face.  The other option is to wrap the headscarf around my mouth and nose leaving only my eyes showing.  Many do that here when the dust storms strike._

_Kai and I found some lovely silk trousers and tunics in the market.  The trousers are quite loose.  The tunics are long, almost to the knee.  I like to wear mine belted with a sash and narrow leather belts, but many do not.  Kai claims leaving the trousers and tunic loose is cooler.  We also found quilted silk jerkins, which hang to mid-thigh._

_I’m afraid I bought several complete outfits for me and the same for Kai.  The colors, deep golds, soft yellows, a gorgeous mossy green, an almost Cousland blue, a rich purple and deep red were irresistible.  The golds, yellows and greens looked wonderful on Kai with her auburn hair and fair complexion.  I chose the mossy green, blue, purple and deep red for me.  Each outfit has a matching long scarf, which covers face and head if needed.  We make quite the colorful pair.  We should be comfortable on board our galley, the_ Emerald Queen _._

_After we shopped , we  explored the old city, with its mix of clay brick, half-timber and stone buildings set along winding streets.  Canals run through town, fed by the Minanter.  Small squares abound, each with a fountain or pool and trees to provide a cool retreat for the surrounding homes.  There is a wall, of course.  One around the old city and a second farther out, around the newer districts._

_The old city contains all the public buildings.  Nevarra’s ancient university and library abut the old wall on its east side.  The Circle 0f Magi Tower lies near the old wall on the west side.  The inhabitants of the two do not intermingle, except in the Chantry, which lies in the city center adjacent to the Old Palace.  While still used by the Pentaghast rulers, the palace is called ‘old’ when compared to the newer golden roofed palace in Cumberland.  Nevarran rulers divide their time between the two, as you probably know._

_The necropolis lies outside the new wall to the southwest well away from the river.  Larger and far older than Cumberland’s necropolis, parts of it are in disrepair.  When a family dies out no one maintains their mausoleum, which then decays.  The abandoned mausoleum becomes a prime target for looters, a safe haven for bandits, and a potential threat should the ‘inhabitants’ reanimate.  Just as in Cumberland, touring the necropolis is a favorite pastime for visitors, in spite of the threat of undead attacks.  Here guides advise carrying arms against an attack by bandits, undead or both.  Nighttime visits are particularly dangerous.  Before you worry, we did not visit.  Kai talked me out of it, as we have seen the necropolis in Cumberland and this could not be that different.  Well, except for the undead._

_I promise to send another letter when we reach a Haris compound in one of the down river cities.  Please know I am fine.  Coming here was the best thing for me.  I’m busy and have a purpose.  I do miss all of you, but I am better here._

_Give my love to all and a special hug to Oren.  Sherpa, so far, has enjoyed all our adventures.  Kai sends her hellos as well.  She looks quite fetching in her gold silk today.  Now she’s frowning at me, but she still looks lovely._

_Love, Lys._

Lys grinned at Kai. 

“What did you say about me beyond, hello?”

“Only that you look lovely today.  That color suits you perfectly.”

Kai crossed her arms.  “I’d feel better in armor, but at least these are loose enough to wear our gambesons underneath.  And your idea to slit the pockets so we can reach our daggers works quite well.”

“And, my belts give me a place to put throwing daggers under the jerkin.”

“Hadn’t thought of that.  Very clever, My Lady.  I suppose I should wear the sash and belts you bought for me?”

“Probably not important on board the galley.  Now, let me take this letter to the agent, so it will go off with the next courier.  My other letters were very short and Mum’s probably worrying.  Then we can go meet Cousin Samuel and the galley that will take us downriver to the Bridge.  It’s strange leaving whenever we please, not depending on the tide.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

As Lys had done for years now, each evening she carefully updated her journal.  She used it to record and evaluate what she had learned, observed and wondered about on that day.  When she wrote letters, she used it to provide a lively reminder of places visited and people encountered.  Melysande’s second letter to Teyrna Eleanor would be a copy of her journal entries as the Haris group traveled down the Minanter.

**29 Drakonis – Minanter River Imperial Highway Bridge**

The Imperial Highway crosses the Minanter on a grand bridge a few days walk east of Nevarra City.  Smaller galleys and boats can pass through the arches of the bridge, but trading barges and larger galleys cannot.  To facilitate the transfer of goods, the merchant houses of Thedas built docks and a huge caravanserai on the south bank of the river above and below the bridge.  The complex, known as the Docklands, enables cargo to be stored and then transferred.  Goods travel from the Docklands on caravans north to Tevinter and south to Cumberland or east and west on the Minanter.  Our group will head east, down the Minanter to the Amaranthine Ocean.

The trip from Nevarra City to the Imperial Highway Docklands took a day and a half.  We left Nevarra City in the morning, put into shore to give the rowers a rest during the deepest part of the night and arrived at the landing west of the bridge before sunset the next day.  We walked across the Highway to the Haris compound where the _Emerald Queen_ and the Haris barge _Ragnar’s Gold_ were docked. 

Beyond the warehouses, a tent city stood in the open field.  I have never seen a larger Fair.  Cousin Sam must have seen my interest, because he warned Kai and me away.  _Slavers would covet a lovely young woman or an elf._ He spoke very sternly.  _If you want to walk through the Docklands Fair, take guards with you.  Sherpa will not be enough to protect you._   His words remind me we are not far from the Tevinter border.  A lively trade goes both ways, apparently.  Escaped slaves come south along with the hunters tracking them and the slavers looking for victims.  When successful, the hunters and slavers take both re-captured slaves and newly captured free persons north.  We did not go to the Fair.  I’m becoming quite circumspect in my old age.

We set out the next morning on the galley.  Kai and I shared a berth in the small rear castle of the galley.  River galley’s have this built up structure in the stern to house the captain a few guests.  The rest of the crew sleep below decks.  The top of the castle provides a raised deck for archers, should we be attacked.  The steersman handles the rudder from this deck while the captain can view the entire ship and river from a height.

The wind was light, so the rowers supplemented the sail, as the current pushed us down the Minanter.  All the rowers are employees of House Haris and trained to fight as well as row.  House Haris does not use slaves.  Even so, rowing is a hard life and the mate and captain punish misbehavior and laziness.  I’m told positions as rowers on our galleys and crew on our barges are prized, since any employee can rise in the company.  I suppose that’s as much Arethian influence as many of the changes we make in Highever are.  The influence is subtle, but effective.  House Haris boats move as quickly as any others; the Wrath fight better than most mercenary companies. 

We made good time, getting to Hasmal in four days.

**5 Cloudreach – Hasmal**

I was writing of escaped slaves the other day.  Little did I know I would get to meet some in Hasmal.  Cousin Samuel spent our brief time there interviewing escaped Tevinter slaves and soporati, the free non-mage Tevinters, for employment.  The soporati are not slaves, of course, but seem to live a precarious existence as free persons.  Those who fall afoul of the magisters face grave penalties or even slavery, so they often run. 

Hasmal offers a clandestine job market where escaped slaves and other refugees from Tevinter look for work anywhere in the rest of Thedas.  It’s all very secretive.  One House Haris factor in Hasmal has the sole responsibility for finding talented refugees.  Many slaves train as artisans or notaries; the soporati are often merchants or professionals.  They are well educated and talented, so it is easy to find work for them elsewhere in Thedas if they can be kept out of the slavers hands.

More vigilant here than at the Bridge, Cousin Samuel required that Kailian and I stay on our galley and not venture on shore at all.  Kailian, in particular would be a target for slavers, but  Samuel said I could be too.  Scary.  It certainly intimidated us enough that we obeyed with no argument.  Sherpa, on the other hand, went along with Cousin Sam.  He’s taken quite a shine to her and she to him.

Cousin Sam hired a score of new employees.  He sent one young woman to Kai and me, believing she would feel safer with other young women.  Aemilia was our age and a fine weaver.  She was an elf and had been a slave.  I left her and Kai alone, as I thought she might feel more comfortable with another elf.  They spent the day together talking in the prow of our galley.  That evening she and Kai joined me. 

_“Kai tells me you saved her.”_

_“Well…I did, yes.”_

_“Then you gave her a position and kept her safe.”_

_“Well, Kai does a good job of keeping herself safe most of the time, but, yes, we all need help sometimes and I helped.”_

_“She said it was because you are a good person.  That you don’t believe in slavery.  And that you think elves should be treated the same as humans.”_

_“I do.  My family does.”_

_“So that is why your cousin hires elves?”_

_“Yes and no.  Yes, he tries to make no distinction, but he would not hire you if you could not do the job he offers.  My family in Ferelden is different.  My father is a Teyrn, a ruler.  He believes it is his duty to see all the people of the Teyrnir safe and prosperous.  In Highever, we try to see all our people are educated and have a skill.”_

_“So he is a mage?”_

_“No.  Rulers outside of Tevinter are rarely mages.  The Chantry, the Orlesian or White Chantry, won’t allow it.  Mages are kept separate from others in most places.”_

_“So mages are slaves?”_

_“Not exactly, more like prisoners in a comfortable prison, but a prison none-the-less.”_

_“You say most places.”_

_“Well, again, my family does not believe in slavery or imprisoning people who have not committed crimes.  Mages need to be trained, but not locked away.  In Highever, healing mages serve with Chantry sisters in clinics and in some households.  Mages also serve in our guard and army.  The Chantry observes, but does not usually interfere.  It’s a delicate balance, but it works.”_

_“And when they enthrall someone, what happens then?”_

_“You mean blood magic?  We do not tolerate blood magic.  A mage who uses it commits a crime and will be imprisoned.”_

_“That…no blood magic.  That would be an improvement over what I have seen.”  She turned to Kai.  “Does she tell the truth?”_

_Kai grinned.  “Yes.  You can trust her, Aemilia.”_

_The young Tevinter sat quietly while Lys and Kai talked.  She frowned as Kai gave her sidelong looks.  “With her blond hair and blue eyes, I think the green one would be best.”_

_“I agree,” Lys said as  Kai hurried off, only to return with a bundle.  “These should make your journey easier.”_

_Aemilia opened the bundle.  It held a linen tunic, soft leather leggings and a long leather jerkin for wear on the road.  The other outfit was one of Kai’s silk ones, the green trousers, tunic and jerkin with a gold sash and scarf.  A small dagger and leg sheath completed the gift.  “I cannot accept this!”_

_“Of course you can,” Lys replied.  “We can replace those easily at our next stop.”_

_“Lys is right.  I have more clothes than I need.  Lys keeps me well dressed,”  she grinned.  “Not that I mind.  I find I enjoy it, but don’t tell her,” she whispered._

_Aemilia smiled, shyly.  “You are too kind.  I will always remember you.”_

_“Oh, you won’t lose us that easily, Aemilia.  I’m going to ask Cousin Samuel to send you to Mum in Highever.  We can always use another weaver and Kai’s cousin, Myfanwy’s family will welcome you into their home.  So you will have both work and a new family.”_

Cousin Samuel agreed to send Aemilia to Mum, but she will go to Haris Manor first, with the others.  I wondered why two troops of Wrath rode along the shore with us from the Docklands.  Now I know.  One troop will escort the new artisans, notaries and factors back to the Manor, protecting them from any slave hunters or slavers along the way.  The other troop will continue with us to Bastion.

**11 Cloudreach - Tantervale**

The Tantervale visit was blessedly short.  It’s a city ruled harshly, if indirectly, by the Chantry.  Templars watch over the rulers and the city guard.  The city guard remain alert to prevent the least violation of the city’s laws.  A simple prank, which the guard in Higheverport would barely notice, can land a young boy in the city prison for months. 

The semi-arid climate only supports farming where the lands can be irrigated from the Minanter.  The city must trade for the food it cannot raise locally.  We docked, went directly to the House Haris compound, met with the local factor, exchanged cargo and left, all within four days.  Cousin Samuel hates Tantervale almost as much as Hasmal.

**17 Cloudreach – Locks**

I’ve decided I love riverboat travel.  Often our galley will surge ahead, but the barge always catches up.  The barge carries most of the trade goods.  The galley carries some smaller or more precious items and has quarters for Cousin Samuel, me, Kai, the other agent, Micah, our Notary, Stephen, and six Wrath troops.  Each day I work with Cousin Samuel, Micah and Stephen in the morning while it is still cool.  A canopy provides shade, so we can work outside in the breeze.  After dinner, everyone lounges or naps in the heat of the day.  Even the rowers are given a break if the wind is strong enough to propel us by sail alone.  Kai and I do forms in the late afternoon, as there is not enough room to spar.  In the evening, we often talk, tell stories, sing or play silly games.  I’ve learned Wicked Grace and Diamondback, although Kai beats me every time.  Apparently, she has played since she was a child in the Alienage.  I avoid chess, as I assume she will beat me there, just as Fergus does.  I really do not like to lose at games.  I suppose it’s a fault.

Traveling the Minanter from Tantervale to Starkhaven can take nine to twelve days.  After Tantervale, the river drops from the plateau stretching out from the Silent Plains towards the lowlands and the coast of the Free Marches.  To allow boats to pass through this section, a canal and series of locks have been built.  Traversing them takes time, as each lock needs to empty or fill to enable our progress.  

Kai and I stayed with the _Emerald Queen_ through the first few locks.  It is fascinating to watch the lockmaster and his crew open and close the gates, managing the flow of this mighty river.  It’s also interesting to note that each lock is protected by a troop of soldiers.  Bandits used to prey on barges coming through the locks, but the trading cities now pay for the guard.  The  Wrath ride along the river road on the south bank as additional protection.  The novelty of the locks does wear off after seeing the process several times,  

the lengthy transit through the lock allowed us to leave the galley and stretch our legs.  Some days we donned armor,  joined the Wrath and rode to the next lock.  If it was late in the day, the Wrath would set up camp and wait for the galley and barge.  Then we could spar or practice archery or simply walk.  

The River Road winds its way down towards Starkhaven along an easy grade allowing wagons to travel with little difficulty.  Roads from the south join it at intervals.  The fertile lands around Wildervale, south of Tantervale, provide grain, vegetables and fruit to Starkhaven and the cities to the west.  Wagons passed us traveling in either direction as we rode.

**20  Cloudreach - Starkhaven**

Finally, on 19 Cloudreach, we passed through the final lock and the _Emerald Queen_ began the run into Starkhaven.  This visit is very different from my visits to the Vael palace with Mum.  I couldn’t help but compare the Vaels rule here to Tantervale.  I know the Vaels are pious Andrasteans, but their rule is not authoritarian.  Perhaps it is the location.  Tantervale lies in semi-arid lands south of the grim Silent Plains.  It suffers drought, receives refugees from Tevinter and endures a harsh, hot, windy climate. 

Starkhaven, in contrast, lies in a lovely river valley surrounded by high peaks.  To the southwest fertile farmlands, which extend to Wildervale, provide the city with food.  To the north, the mountains provide grazing, game and orchards, similar to Bann Teagan’s lands west of Lake Calenhad.  Food and water are abundant.  Even the poorest human folk and the elves in the Alienage don’t go hungry.  The Chantry performs much charitable work, encouraged by the Vaels. 

Of course, there is the great Circle Tower.  I still find it chilling.  There are no free mages or even supervised mages helping the sisters, as we have at home.  In fact, in our short time here, I saw no mages at all.  I know the Vaels have no mages in their household.  If a healing mage is needed, he or she is brought to the household, like a prisoner, accompanied by two or three templars. 

Again, we stayed at our compound in the merchant quarter.  We’ll be here for about a week.  I want to send my letter to Mum with the courier the morning before we leave.  The next leg of the journey is quite long – almost three weeks to Ansburg.  I’ll send another letter from there.

We did take time to visit the markets.  Starkhaven has wonderful markets, with goods from up and down the Minanter, as well as from Wildervale and Tevinter.  Perivantium, a Tevinter city, is not far away.  I think Nathaniel Howe’s mother came from there.  From a soporati family I would think, as she is not a mage.  It’s been a long time since anyone has seen Julia Howe. 

I remember her as a quiet woman who liked to garden, ride and shoot.  She taught Nate his archery skills, much to his father’s irritation.  She fell ill after Delilah was born  It’s said she nearly died with Thomas.  Neither of them seem to be close to her.  Perhaps Howe keeps them away, because he dislikes the influence she had on Nate.  I remember seeing her with Mum and Nyla in our garden when I was small.

Speaking of Nate, I’d love to get to Markham where it’s said he is squiring at his cousin Felix’s manor.  Felix is Nate’s cousin, his great-uncle Byron’s grandson.  Felix’s family fled to Markham when his father, Arl Byron, joined King Maric during the Rebellion.  He  inherited his Mum’s dower lands near Markham and stayed there.  Nate squires for him, but we won’t get to Markham on this trip. 

I’d love to see Nate and tour the university and city of Markham.  And its library!  We didn’t get much time in the Nevarra library either, although Kai was suitably impressed with so many books and scrolls.  Truthfully, so was I.  Oh well, perhaps next time. 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

_Dear Mum,_

_I’m going to be lazy and enclose copies of my journal entries with this short letter once we reach Starkhaven.  I hope I’ll have letters from you when we get there.  Kai and I are fine.  Sherpa too.  She’s actually quite popular with the crew, the little…well not so little anymore…flirt.  She's filling out, maybe even getting fat, but I say that at a whisper, as she gets quite annoyed when I say it aloud.  Lack of exercise I think.  Kai and I would love to spar, but no space.  So perhaps we’re getting soft too._

_When I last wrote we were leaving Nevarra City.  My journal entries start from there, although, as I write this, we’re approaching Hasmal.  I’ll finish this and send it when we arrive in Starkhaven.  Love, Lys_

_Post Scriptum:  Mum, I’m so excited.  I just got your letter.  I’m so happy you, Oriana and Oren will meet us in Antiva City.  It will be so wonderful to see you all!  You must know I have a huge smile on my face and Kai does too.  Give Fergus special hugs.  I know he’d love to come too, but if Papa won’t then he should stay with him._

_Give my love to all and a big hug to Oren.  Sherpa, so far, has enjoyed all our adventures.  (She’s smiling too.)  Kai sends her hellos as well as a note for Myfanwy, which I enclose.  She’s enjoyed wearing her light armor in Starkhaven as it’s quite cool here.  We have been able to get in some archery practice at the range in the compound, as well as sparring in the practice yard.  I love you all.  Hugs to everyone._

_Love, Lys._

Kai breathed a sigh of relief when the letters went into the courier’s pouch.  Lys hadn’t realized her note to Myfanwy was really a note to Teyrna Eleanor.  While she didn’t want to spy on Lys, she did want the Teyrna to know Lys was doing well.  Before leaving Highever, she and Teyrna Eleanor had devised a plan where she would write, then address the note to Myfa and have Lys enclose it with her own.

_Dear Teyrna Eleanor,_

_I think Lys believes this is for Myfa.  I don’t like fooling her, but I know how worried you were when we left._

_She misses all of you, but she is as happy as I have seen her since King Maric died.  She loves seeing new places and people.  I do too.  I was not sure I would, truthfully.  She works hard with Sieur Haris.  Very hard.  I am not always with them, but he seems pleased with her.  She, Micah and Stephen always discuss contracts and ideas for new trade goods.  When she is not working, we are sparring or reading.  Sometimes we just watch the shore pass by, but she is not sad when we do._

_At first, I would find her crying at night.  She hasn’t done that since Haris Manor.  I think she was right.  She needed a purpose.  She has one with the Rasiae and she has one here.  Sadly, she doesn’t think she does at Highever._

_I hope this reassures you, My Lady.  Respectfully, Kailian Tabris_

_Post Scriptum:   Before I seal this.  She is estatick (not sure of spelling, but more than happy) that you will be in Antiva.  Me too, My Lady.  Kai_

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

As Lys anticipated, the trip to Ansburg took more than two weeks.  They passed through several more locks after leaving Starkhaven.  Lys and Kai took to wearing full armor and riding with the Wrath.  Captain Lucas permitted them to accompany the troops, as long as they followed orders and behaved like every other trooper.  The Wrath usually stayed near the barge, since river pirates preyed more on cargo-laden vessels.  Once they reached their camp for the night, the young women would sleep on board the galley. 

The large company of Wrath both on shore and on the barge and galley discouraged most bandits.  Only one attack occurred during the long trek to Ansburg.  The attackers came from land and river, planning a sneak attack on the darkened camp and boats.  First, the Wrath’s sentries sounded the alarm ruining the bandits hoped for surprise.  Then torches flared illuminating the approaching attackers.  The Wrath’s greater numbers and Captain Lucas’ care in placing soldiers and archers on both boats and in the camp soon had the bandits defeated. 

Lys and Kai both fought from the galley with their bows.  The Wrath Captain had forbidden them to engage with blades, especially if they were not fully armored.  Both young women complied.  Kai had fought before, in Denerim, against intruders in the Alienage; Lys had not.  Highever was well patrolled and few bandits attacked the Teyrn’s troops.  Unlike Fergus, Lys had not yet ridden with or led a company of guards. 

Lys would have ridden with the Highever Guard, had she stayed, but instead she fought her first skirmish on the Minanter a week or so out of Starkhaven.  She found it both exhilarating and disturbing.  She knew her arrows had found their marks, but not if she had killed anyone.  The whole experience seemed somewhat dreamlike.  From waking up to the shouts of the Wrath sentries to standing on deck loosing arrow after arrow to walking among the dead bandits as the soldier’s carried them off to be placed on the pyre, the time seemed to pass quickly.  Lys could not quite believe it had all happened when she woke up to a sunny morning with few signs of the fight the night before.      

The large company reached Ansburg, or rather the docks that served Ansburg, safely.  Despite its Circle of Magi Tower and Grey Warden Post, Ansburg was a backwater.  Set in the midst of farmland and orchards, it’s trade was agrarian in nature.  It did not have the wealth or status of the other trading ports.  In fact, it was not a port at all.  Ansburg proper sat just north of the Minanter River, off the main trade route between Nevarra and Antiva.  No one visited Ansburg without a reason. 

The House Haris group stayed only a few days, before proceeding down river to Bastion, on the mouth of the Minanter where it flowed into the Amaranthine Ocean.  Here all cargo would be loaded on the _Immortal Dragon_ for the trip to Antiva City.  The passengers had a couple of days in the port city before they boarded the _Immortal Dragon_.  Within four days, they would arrive in Antiva City and Lys’ reunion with her family.

**9:26 Dragon, Kingsway  ===  Alistair**

“I’m not sure what you’ve done now, Initiate, but Revered Mother Hilda wants to see you immediately after dinner.

“Of course, Knight-Captain.”

“Alistair, did you do something I should know about?”

“No, ser, I’ve behaved these past weeks.”  He grinned at the templar.  “Maybe she wants to commend me.”

The Knight-Captain pursed his lips and glared.  “And there it is again.  When will you learn a smart mouth will not get you approval from me or the other officers.”

“Perhaps approval is not what I’m seeking, ser.”

Knight-Captain sat back.  He had grown to like the young man over the years, but his recent behavior puzzled him.  _He’s a good templar.  It’s as if he suddenly wants to prove he’s not._   “It should be, Initiate, now do not be late for Her Reverence.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Alistair entered the Revered Mother’s study and bowed.  “Your Reverence.”

“Ah, Initiate Alistair.  It seems you have visitors.  You may not leave the grounds with them, but you may meet them in the garden.  They await you there.”

Alistair stood at rest with his hands clasped behind his back.  “May I ask who they are, Your Reverence?  Has the Teyrn returned?”

“No, at least I am not aware that he has.  Nor has the Queen blessed us with her presence.  No, this is your childhood guardian and his brother, the Arl of Redcliffe and Bann Teagan Guerrin.  Her Holiness, the Grand Cleric, decided they might help improve your behavior.  It seems she spoke with King Cailan and Arl Guerrin.  They requested that Arl Guerrin and his brother be allowed to visit.”

Alistair looked down hoping to hide his dismay at seeing the Arl again.  It took a moment for him to school his expression. 

The Revered Mother noticed his efforts and realized he was not pleased at these visitors.  _Oh my, this may not go well._   “Alistair, if you do not wish to see them, I can excuse you.  This visit is unexpected, unlike the Teyrn’s visits.  I can make excuses for you this time and ask the Grand Cleric to keep to the approved list.”

He looked up, resigned.  “I will see them, Your Reverence, they’ve come a long way.  I would appreciate no further visits, however.  The Arl has no authority or influence over me.  We did not have a…fond relationship when I was his ward.  I lived in the stables, actually, and rarely saw him or the Arlessa.”

“In the stables?  I see.  Well, perhaps I don’t, but…I’ll make a deal with you Alistair.  You maintain good behavior and I will try to keep the Arl at bay.  I can’t say I fully understand the rules Grand Cleric Elemena provided when you arrived here, but I do know Arl Eamon and his brother were not approved visitors.  It seems others, in the nobility perhaps, have influence over who visits you.”  She watched his expression change again.  “Perhaps you understand that better than I.  With the Teyrn away, perhaps others have taken responsibility for your welfare?”

He sighed.  “I’ll try, Your Reverence.  Thank you.”  He turned to go, then stopped.  “Your Reverence, while we bargaining,” he smiled as she raised her eyebrows, “I wondered, is there a chance that I could become a brother?  Work in the library or scriptorium.  I’d do well.  Brother Jerome and the Amarius can attest to that.”

“You don’t want to be a templar?”  _Well that explains a lot._

“It’s not that I don’t want to be a templar, rather that I’d prefer to work with my mind and hands in the library or scriptorium.  Or teach.  I enjoy teaching.  That’s the part of my templar duties I like best.  Helping with the pages and younger initiates.  I would still serve Andraste.”

“No, Alistair, I don’t think that is possible.  I’m sorry.  I have heard good things about you from the brothers, but your talents as a templar can’t be denied.  It seems you have a calling for it.”  She hesitated.  “Alistair, I don’t pretend to know why the Grand Cleric takes an interest in you.  Or Teyrn Loghain for that matter or the Arl.  I suspect you know, but I’m not asking.  The fact remains that she does take an interest and I must obey her directives.  She wants you to become a templar.”

His smile faded.  “I see.  Well, thank you for considering it, Your Reverence.”  He turned to go face Arl Eamon.

“Alistair, you are a bright, talented, well-intentioned young man.  Even your misbehavior truly hurts no one but yourself.  You should try to adjust to the inevitable.”

“Yes, Your Reverence, I should.  I’ll try.”

“Go see the Arl.  I hope it goes better than you expect it to.”

He bowed and left.

Revered Mother Hilda frowned.  She had resented Alistair when he was foisted upon her years ago, but had come to like the young man he had become.  She often had to stifle a grin when he made a joke.  She knew he missed Cullen, another fine young man.  Despite his pranks, Alistair’s heart was in the right place.  Now she wondered what schemes swirled around the young initiate.  And why they began when the Teyrn left.  _Or was it after the King Maric died?_   She had only seen Maric a few times and Cailan once, but the boy had the Theirin look.  She shuddered.  _I may be used to dealing with nobles, but_ t _his is not something in which I want to meddle.  May Andraste keep him safe._

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Alistair approached the two men who stood under an oak tree near the garden wall.  Arl Eamon looked older after six years:   stolid, his beard and hair streaked with grey, a bit of paunch giving evidence of his sedentary preferences.  Teagan had not changed much:  a few more wrinkles, hair a duller auburn, but with no obvious grey and still standing straight, with the stance of a man used to riding and sparring.  _At least Arlessa Isolde isn’t with them._

Eamon looked up at Alistair’s approach surprise showing on his features.  “Alistair?”

“Your Lordship, it’s kind of you and Bann Teagan to visit.”  Alistair bowed arms crossed on his chest.

“Maker, boy, you look like your father.  You’ve grown.”

“After six years, Your Lordship, I hope that is true.  It would be awkward to be sixteen in the body of a ten year old.  Or ten in the body of a sixteen year old, although I think the Knight-Captain might accuse me of that on a bad day.”  Alistair spoke seriously and never cracked a smile.

Teagan stifled a grin.

“Quite so, my boy, quite so.”  The Arl frowned, unsure if Alistair joked.

Alistair turned to Teagan.  “Good to see you as well, Bann Teagan.”

Teagan started forward, then stopped himself.  “You as well, Alistair.  You’ve grown into quite a handsome young man.”

“Not a quality we concern ourselves with here, Bann Teagan.”

“What…no of course you don’t.”  Teagan colored slightly.

“Your Lordship, Bann Teagan, there are benches if you care to sit or we can walk, as you wish.”

“No need.  We won’t be long.  In truth Alistair, the Grand Cleric asked me to visit you.  She hoped, given our relationship, that I might influence your behavior.  Something Loghain failed to do, apparently, despite all the indulgences.  I understand your history as a miscreant has followed you here.  She is most disturbed at your persistent wrongdoing.  I want you to become a templar and have a respected occupation under Chantry supervision, but you jeopardize it with your misdeeds.”

“The Grand Cleric concerns herself with an unimportant templar initiate?”

“Don’t be stupid, Alistair.  She is well aware of who you are and prefers that you not attract attention.  It would be best for all if you disappear into the templar ranks.  You seem to have some aptitude for fighting and templar skills, so she tells me.  Not surprised really.  You always did well at physical tasks and certainly enjoyed picking fights.  Tracking mages can’t be that difficult can it.  You can smell the magic or something?”

“Right, just like a mabari.”  Alistair closed his eyes and took some deep breaths.

Teagan stifled another grin at Alistair’s comment.  _Eamon has no idea when he jokes and manages to say exactly the wrong thing.  It’s good the boy, no young man, can control himself._

“Which means you agree with her?  I should disappear into the templar ranks?”

“Of course I do Alistair.  You’re a common born bastard.  It’s far more than you’re entitled to hope for.  I’m surprised you’ve survived here at Dragon’s Peak, as rigorous as I understand the studies to be,  but I suspect Her Holiness had some influence.  Certainly easier to keep an eye on you here, even if you do poorly in your work and studies.”

“And once I take my vows, Your Lordship, where do you expect Her Holiness to send me?  Perhaps to the Monastery in Denerim?  To protect the capital from apostates?”

“Perhaps, Alistair, if you can behave.  Although, I expect Kinloch Hold would be more likely.  More secure.  Wouldn’t want you running around the countryside, much less around Denerim where you might be recognized.”

“No, of course not.  I hate camping anyway.”

Teagan suppressed yet another smirk.  _I suspect he’s done better in his studies than Eamon knows._

“Good.  So we can expect your behavior to improve.  I understand  you’ll be eighteen in two years.  High time you took your vows I would think.”

“I look forward to taking my vows and becoming a knight, Your Lordship.”

“A knight?  Is that one of your jokes, boy.  No?  Well forget that.  Sons of common wh…servants don’t become knights.  Is that what Loghain let you think?  Well…he would, then wouldn’t’ he?  Thinks because he was raised above his station you will be too.  No, my boy, you’ll be a common templar under close observation.  Can’t have you opposing Cailan can we?”

Alistair looked past Eamon to Teagan.  _At least he looks uncomfortable.  Not that he would do anything to help me._   “I would never oppose Cailan, Your Lordship.  It offends me that anyone would think that.”

“Well, of course, you would say that.  As long as you’re in a monastery, or the Circle Tower, you can’t stir up trouble can you?”

Alistair stood straight and breathed deeply.  _I’ll get through this._   “I hope, Your Lordship, that all is well with you and your family and with you Bann Teagan.  I hate to cut your visit short.  I know you traveled far, but I have a class I should be attending.  If I’m to improve my behavior I should not be late.”

“Right, of course, of course.  Good start, Alistair.  We’ll look in on you again in the spring.”

“That’s very kind, but there is no need, Your Lordship, I’m sure the journey is tiring.  I have duties every day, so it’s best I attend to them, isn’t it?  Those of us without family take the duties of those who do, when their families visit.  I am kept quite busy.”

Eamon stared at him again, clearly unsure if the statements should be taken at face value.  Alistair wore his most innocent expression; one which no longer fooled his instructors, but which succeeded with Eamon. 

“As is proper, my boy.  When the nobility visit their sons, it’s appropriate for the common initiates to take their duties.  I do not wish to intervene.  Loghain did enough of that, I think.”  He grew stern.  “See that you behave.  You’re not a child any longer.  Thievery or vandalism or whatever it is you get up to will not be tolerated.  The Grand Cleric will provide reports of any further misconduct.  Both the King and the Grand Cleric will be most unhappy if it continues.  I’ll suggest she recommend the lash for you if needs be.  I fear Loghain gave you an inflated sense of importance with his visits.”  He turned on his heel and walked away.

“Alistair.”

He closed his eyes as the Bann spoke, then turned and looked at Teagan.  Teagan realized they were eye to eye.  _Maker, he’s as tall as I am.  Needs to fill out more, but he’s not a boy._  

“Loghain will return, Alistair.  There’s still hope.  Anora asked me to tell you that.  Cailan…he’s adjusting to becoming king so suddenly.  The opposition of the banns upset him.  He fears they will use you if you not protected here.  It will take time before he’s ready to put his father’s plan to acknowledge you into effect.”

Alistair refrained from saying the thoughts going through his mind. _“Will it Teagan?  I have no time left, really.  A year, maybe two.  Then I can look forward to becoming a prisoner in Kinloch Hold waiting for my lyrium dose.”_   He simply nodded.

“Do you want to give me any messages?”

Alistair ran his fingers through his hair.  “No, Bann Teagan.  No messages.  My life is here.  There is nothing for me outside.”  

Teagan hesitated.  “It is good to see you, Alistair.”  He reached out and squeezed Alistair’s arm.  “Stay well.  It will work out.”

“Will it, Bann Teagan?  After hearing that for eight years, I’m afraid I understand all too well how ‘it’ will work out.”  He shook his head, as if to clear it, before he bowed and started to walk away.  “Safe journey to Denerim, Ser,” he called over his shoulder.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“Well, he certainly has the ‘look’.”  Arl Eamon told with Isolde on his return.  “That will be a benefit, if we need him.”

“You should have told me about his father years ago, Eamon.  If I had known…if Eleutheria had known…he would be safely hidden away near Redcliffe, not here in the east.  He would never have met the Cousland brat or Loghain.”

“He’s hidden away now.  Those fools at the monastery have no idea who he is and they will do as Grand Cleric Elemena directs.  When he leaves to go to Kinloch Hold, he’ll be hidden under a helmet.  No one will see him.  Elemena will cooperate with us and do what the Divine asks.  As long as he’s in the Chantry, he is under our control.  Loghain isn’t here to disagree.”

“Will Cailan continue to cooperate?  He and the Queen seemed determined to acknowledge him.  Once that happens, they’ll marry him off to some noblewoman.  Probably Delilah Howe or, worse, the Cousland brat.”

“Don’t worry Isolde.  That won’t happen.  I can convince Cailan that the boy presents a danger to himself and to Cailan if he’s allowed outside the monastery.  Cailan’s already afraid the bann’s will propose Alistair as king as soon as he’s acknowledged.  Cailan doesn’t fear Alistair; he fears what others might do in his name.  He likes the boy, so I have to tread carefully.  Make Cailan believe the threat comes from others.  Actually, the Cousland angle is a good one.  I’ll tell him Bryce will try to marry Alistair to that Cousland girl in order to use him against Cailan.  Kill two birds with one stone.

I don’t think Anora will convince him otherwise, about Alistair or the Couslands.  Howe’s a help there.  He doesn’t want Bryce back in Denerim either. 

Our plans just require that I keep him believing there are banns out there ready to challenge his rule.  And that Teagan and I, his uncles, are his best advisors.  Eventually, something will need to be done about Howe, but for now, his actions work in our favor.

“It’s unfortunate that Cailan’s marriage to that commoner went forward,” Isolde mused, “but all things will be resolved over time.  One of the Empress’ cousins most likely….  As long as that maid of hers keeps dosing her tea, we won’t have any babes to worry about.”     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her efforts. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and those who Reviewed recently: dustywalker, Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, nh09jrb, katdancer2, EasternViolet and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. It helps me keep going, knowing others enjoy Lys, Alistair, Loghain, Anora and their companions.


	37. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9: 26 Dragon - Antiva City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 37:  REUNIONS**

* * *

**9:26 Bloomingtide and Justinian  ===  Antiva City**

A forest of ships’ masts filled the horizon as the _Immortal Dragon_ readied itself to enter Antiva City harbor.  A pilot had come aboard to navigate the _Immortal_ to the Haris docks, through the ships of all sizes anchored in the harbor.  The city rose above the port spreading out into the hills of the interior.  Notary Stephen stood beside Lys and Kai at the rail pointing out significant landmarks.

“There, you can see the Haris _Fondaco_ [22] with the Haris banner flying.  Lys saw the banner with the _Green Dragon_ _Segreant_ [23] on a purple and gold field rippling in the breeze.  Let’s use that as the center point.  Look to the right along the docks.  That large complex at the end is the Antivan _Arsenale_.”

“That’s where the Antivans build their merchant fleet?”

“Yes, the _Arsenale_ primarily serves Antiva and the section building Antivan sailing vessels remains inaccessible to foreigners.  Antivans do not have a navy, but they do have the swiftest and, most say, the largest merchant fleet in Thedas.  They take great pride in their huge galleys, carracks, and caravels and keep the designs secret.  The Antivan fleet carries more cargo than other fleets, but they are fast enough to outrun most pirates.  Antivans will scuttle one of their ships rather than risk pirates turning it against them.  The Antivan _Arsenale_ also offers services to the ships of other Thedosian merchant houses at a price, but they never divulge the design of their own ships.  It is rumored the bottoms are covered in metal sheets to keep them free of the barnacles that slow other ships. Your cousin has experimented with the process, but has not unlocked the secret yet.

“There, inland from the Arsenal up on the hill, is the tower of the Antivan Circle of Magi.”

“That huge square tower?  It must house almost a thousand people!  Are there so many mages here?”  Kai’s eyes grew wide.

“And Templers, too I would think,” Lys offered. 

“One sees mages in the streets here, as you do in Cumberland, escorted by the ever-present templars.  The Alienage is between the Circle and Arsenale.  There in middle,“ Stephen continued, pointing west from the Tower, “you can see the main Chantry cathedral with its square tower or campanile and dome.  The higher ground provides cooler breezes for the _palazzo_ district.”

“The cathedral is beautiful.  All the colors!  It’s like a mosaic design forming geometric shapes.  Is it marble?”

“Marble, alabaster, and glass.  The _Cattedrale_ of Andraste’s Tears faces the _Piazza Grande_.  The royal palace, _Palazzo Reale_ , is on the other end of the Piazza facing the _Cattedrale_.  You can see the roofs and the Antivan Royal banner flying over the palace.  Each great Antivan merchant house and major noble house has a _Grande_ _Palazzo_ on the _Grande_ _Piazza_ or in the surrounding _palazzo_ district.  They are not much to see from the street, mostly blank walls and grand gates.  The _palazzi_ face inward, with multiple courtyards and gardens.  As you will find, when you reach the _Palazzo Falanni_ , inside they are grand indeed.   

“The main city market lies down the hill between the _palazzo_ district and the wharves.  The district to the west of the Cathedral serves the _Arsenale_ and docks.  Many elves work in the Arsenale, on the docks, and as servants in the _palazzi_ , of course.  Minor merchants and wealthier artisans have their homes and studios in the district to the east, where the air is fresher, and breezes more frequent.”

Surrounding the main landmarks a city of marble, alabaster and whitewashed stucco and stone buildings rose, often to three, four or even five stories.  The roofs were covered in orange tiles.  Flowers grew from balconies, parapets, and small boxes, which hung below wide windows with shutters flung open to sea breezes.

“You seem impressed, My Lady,” Kai said.

“Maker, Kai, I thought I’d seen large cities and full harbors, but this….”  She chuckled, “I owe Fergus a sovereign.”

“What?”

“He told me when I traveled to Antiva City, I’d see a truly great Thedosian city.  I didn’t believe it would be that much larger or more impressive than Cumberland.  He bet me it would, although he’s never been to Cumberland.  He won.”  She put her arm through Kai’s and squeezed. 

“Excited much?”

“You know I am.  I can’t stop grinning.”  Lys watched their progress as the pilot boat towed the caravel through the maze of ships.  “We’ve had quite an adventure, though, haven’t we?”

Kai grinned back.  “Amazing, My Lady.”

“Oh, stop with the ‘My Lady’s.’ ”

“Practicing for when we go ashore.”

“Right.  Well, you’ll be staying with me, not in servant’s quarters.  We’ll be fine.  Mum and Oriana won’t care.”

“My Lady, I won’t embarrass your family in front of Oriana’s.  I’m your maid until we leave again.”

“Fine, fine.  You’re right.”

“Sorry, I didn’t hear that.”

Lys cocked her head, eyes narrowing.  “You are right and I won’t say it again.” 

Kai tried to keep a straight face, but failed and giggled.  Lys’ giggles soon joined Kai’s.

Once anchored, the sailors lowered the lighter.  Lys could see her Mum on the dock with a familiar looking elf.  “I think that’s Zed with Mum!  You’ll get to meet him finally.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lys would continue her work during their Antiva City stay, but Cousin Samuel encouraged her to stay at the _Palazzo Falanni_. 

“First, I would have to listen to your mother berate me and then give in anyway,” he chuckled.  “Then, from a business viewpoint, they are excellent contacts.  I suspect they feel the same about us.  It can only benefit both houses for us to stay there.  I would accept their invitation for business reasons alone.  In addition, Antonio and Giuliana Falanni are delightful people.  We will keep our rooms in the Haris compound, in any case.”

Foreign merchant houses, doing business in Antiva City, each had a _fondaco_.  The stone built structure faced the harbor.  An arched portico extended out over the dock, which enabled easy cargo handling direct from ship to storeroom.  Above the lowest storeroom  level, three more stories rose around a central courtyard.  At the courtyard level, the range facing the Ocean held reception rooms with wide windows for catching the breeze and providing light.  At right angles to the sea facing structure, one range held stables, a smithy and artisan studios and the opposite range contained the kitchens.  The second and third levels provided offices and meeting rooms for the Haris staff.  The upper floors also held apartments and living quarters.  The range opposite the sea facing range had a two story high passageway to the smaller gateway courtyard.  A huge three story ornate gateway, wide enough for the largest carts, opened to the city.  This area contained guardrooms and access to the storerooms below.    

Lys and Kai managed to keep still during the trip to the dock, but excitement won out, once they stepped ashore.

“Mum!”  Lys ran along the dock to throw her arms around Eleanor. 

Kai grinned at the Teyrna, who laughed and hugged Lys back.  Kai turned to the elf standing beside them.  “I’m Kailian Tabris.  You must be Zed?”

“I am and I am not.  For good reasons, I used that name when I last visited Highever, but my name is Zevran Arainai.  My friends, however, call me Zev.”

“And my friends call me Kai.  Maybe one day I’ll let you do so.”

“Oh ho, a challenge.  I cannot resist a challenge from a beautiful elf.  You are Lady Melysande’s very accomplished Lady’s Maid I think?”

“Accomplished?”

“Your talents match, or perhaps exceed, those of your mistress, no?  An archer, a swordswoman, a lady’s maid, a horse woman…what have I missed?” 

“A detector of effusive compliments?”

“Oh my lady, you wound me!”  Zevran put both hands on his heart and mimed falling over.

“You have not changed, I see, elf.”  Lys had walked over with Eleanor to join Kai and Zev.  “Unless, it’s your name.  Did I hear you give a different one?”

“Alas, My Lady, the alias was necessary and agreed upon by the Falanni.  My true name is Zevran Arainai, Zev-“

“-yes, I heard.  Zev to your friends, Zevran.  You may call me Lady Melysande.”  Lys spoke with her most imperious tones, while Kai stifled a giggle.

“As you wish of course, My Lady Melysande.  No more effusion.  I will simply guide you, your lovely mother, and beautiful companion to the _palazzo_.”  He bowed.

Kai and Lys began laughing. 

“So, I have been fooled, yes?”

“Oh Zev, of course you have.”  Lys hugged him.  “I do expect you to spar with us, however, and provide more lessons in stealth.  I’ve taught Kai all I could.”

“It will be my pleasure, _cara_ ,” he grinned.  “As long as your mother approves.”

“Elf, you will be the death of all of us,” Teyrna Eleanor chuckled fondly, as they followed him through the Haris _Fondaco_ courtyard to the street.

“That I will not, Your Grace.  I am bound to protect the Falanni and the Couslands with my life.” 

Zevran spoke seriously, Kai noted. 

“Now my beautiful companions, please, your carriage awaits.”  He gestured toward the open cart, with the Falanni crest on the side, waiting to take them and their chests to the Palazzo Falanni.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“Auntie Lys, Auntie Lys.”  The little boy ran, small legs pumping, as the three women and Zevran came through the entrance into the gateway courtyard. 

Lys crouched down as the two year old jumped into her widespread arms.  She stood, still holding him.  “Maker, Oren, you’re almost as tall as me!”

“Am not!”

“And a good thing too or you would have knocked me right over.  I couldn’t carry you and hug you.”  Lys noticed the band around his head.  “Oren, what is this around your head.”

“Pirate.”

“You’re a pirate?”

He nodded vigorously, “Pirate.  No stick.”  He frowned.  “Need stick.”

“A sword?  You want a sword?”

“No, stick.”  He turned toward the two women who entered the courtyard.  “Mama!  Lyssie come.”

“Oriana and her mother Giuliana approached the guests.  “Yes, Oren, I see that,” Oriana laughed.  “He’s been anxiously awaiting your arrival, sister.”  

Oren hugged Lys again, then whispered.  “Down.  Hug Gran’mama”

“I think I should too, Oren, thank you,” Lys whispered back, then set him down on his feet.

“ _Signora_ Falanni, it is good to see you again,” Lys said, curtsying. 

“Oh Lys, not so formal.  You have been attacked by the wild pirate and survived,” Giuliana Falanni, who looked like an older version of Oriana, spoke the Common Tongue with the same lilting Antivan accent.  She laughed gesturing to Oren.  “Now you must settle your things and come to the garden courtyard for tea.  Oriana will show you the way, while Eleanor and I take the pirate with us.  Come Oren, let your Mama talk with your Aunt Lys.”

Oren stopped for a final hug.  “Lemon cakes and banilla.  The banilla have spots, black spots,” he announced.

Lys giggled.  “Those are vanilla specks, Oren.  Will you save me one?”  The boy nodded.  “We’ll return soon.”

Zevran slipped away, as Kai, Lys and Oriana went through an arch leading further into the _palazzo_ and a second courtyard.  A spiral stairway led to an open portico, which extended around the second level.

“Your rooms are just here Lys,” Oriana said, opening a door into a spacious sitting room with tall windows overlooking a garden.  “A common room, dressing room, sleeping room for Kai and your bedroom.”  Oriana smiled, “I hope it’s adequate.”

“Oriana, it’s beautiful.  Kai will appreciate her own room.  She’s had to share with me since we left Haris Manor.”

“Eleanor said you would have work, so I thought the common room with a work table would be helpful.  _Signore_ Samuel can even work with you here, or you with him.  He has similar rooms along the opposite portico.”

Lys walked over and drew Oriana into a hug.  “It’s perfect Oriana.  Just being with all of you again is perfect.  I love my work with Cousin Samuel.  The travel fascinated me, but it’s good to be with family.  I just…well it’s good to be here.”

“He’s better, Lys.  He just couldn’t admit Highever could run without him.  Fergus didn’t want to leave him alone.”

“I can understand how Papa feels.  He lost so much.  And Loghain’s gone, too.  I’m glad we’ll stop at Highever on our way back to Cumberland.”

“Me too.  Now, go change.  Oren will be up here searching for you if we don’t hurry back-“

“-I laid your clothes out, My Lady, and warm water awaits,” Kai announced.  “Camilla will show me what I need to know.”  Kai had been pleased to see Oriana’s  maid waiting for her in the dressing room.  Camilla had been with Oriana for many years and knew the Falanni household well.

“Thanks, Kai.”  She grinned as she saw the simple deep blue silk dress and green shawl Kai had chosen.  Her new sandals, better for warm weather, lay beside them.  Washing and dressing quickly, she joined Oriana in the common room. 

“Oh, Lys, that dress is lovely.  And the silk is perfect for our warm weather.  Come,” they linked arms, “I’ll show you the way.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lys wandered through the Falanni's lovely garden.  _So many plants I don't recognize.  I should ask the gardener to tell me about each one.  I'm sure some are medicinal...or poisonous._   She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Mum!  Maker, you put Zevran to shame, sneaking up like that."

Eleanor Cousland laughed.  "Well, tracking and hunting are stealthy activities.  I'm rather good, you know."

"I know.  Zev says that's where my aptitude came from, early training as an archer and hunter." 

They strolled arm in arm discussing the plants that were new to them.  Lys studied her mother as she bent to examine a bloom.  This feels so normal, but Mum looks older.  There’s more grey in her hair.  It all must be so hard for her.  A shiver ran through her.  She hated thinking of her parents getting older. 

Eleanor rose and faced Lys.  "Come along, there's a bench over there.  Let's sit."

Lys followed obediently, smiling to herself.  _I wondered when she would want to talk._

They sat beneath a parasol pine, its shape reminiscent of the colorful parasols Antivans carried to shield themselves from the northern sun.  Eleanor brushed a stray lock of hair from Lys' forehead and smiled.

"You seem to truly enjoy your work with Samuel, Lys."

"I do Mum.  This whole adventure has been engrossing.  I understand that much work goes into trading.  You know I do.  The bonus is the travel, meeting new people and seeing new places.  I’m not simply a...traveler.  I’m useful.  Cousin Samuel seems...well he says he's pleased with what I've done.  I don't think Notary Stephen would put up with me if I wasn't useful."

"I agree with that, Lys," Eleanor said, chuckling, "Stephen is not known to tolerate fools or slackers.  So you found a purpose?"

"I have.  I can specialize you know.  Mining, textiles, healing plants and potions - these are things I know.  I've learned about them since I was a child," she grinned as Eleanor raised an eyebrow, "well a young child?  I even know quite a lot about arms and armor - more than I realized."

"So what about all the other things?  The ones you ran away from?"

"I didn't run away Mum.  All those things are with me.  I just don't think about them all the time.  I'm too busy."

"And there were no things to enjoy or keep you busy in Highever?"

Lys frowned.  "You're playing demon's advocate.  You know I love Highever.  You know I always worked closely with you and Papa, but I'm not going to be Teyrna or Arlessa or the wife of anyone in Ferelden."

She stood and started pacing in front of the bench.  "Mum, there will always be an empty place in my heart when I think of King Maric.  I will always want our old life back, but even then, I had no real place in Highever or Ferelden.  The idea that King Maric would acknowledge Alistair and betroth me to him was a young girl’s foolish dream.  Still, it’s a dream I have a hard time giving up.  He…”  she bit her lower lip, holding back tears.  “…holds my heart and I can’t seem to let him go.”

“Lys, I understand.  I believe I would have felt the same if Bryce and I had been separated.”                           

“If I met Cailan or Loghain right now I would likely rage at them for what they've done to Papa and Fergus…and Alistair.  I haven't forgotten anything.  I'm trying to learn to forgive them.  If I think about them, I try to understand why they acted as they did."  She gave her mum a rueful grin.  "I haven't succeeded yet."

"Nor have I sweetling.  I would like to yell at Cailan too, although Fergus always points out that yelling at Cailan has a history of bad outcomes.  I would add that yelling at Loghain rarely works either."

Lys laughed.  "He should know."  She stared at the ground pondering her next question.  "How is Papa?"

"Angry, still, but trying to hide it.  Sad.  Feeling very alone."  Eleanor gave Lys a rueful smile.  "Feeling a bit useless.  The Teyrnir runs so well.  Every time he tries to meddle, he gets his fingers slapped - very respectfully of course.  Then Seneschal Mowrey sets up a meeting to review the policy he meddled with.  Fergus and the Seneschal and Arl Philip run it all so smoothly.  I look forward to Samuel's visit.  I'm hoping the mining project will get him busy again."

"I sound selfish, but is he still upset with me?"

"No, I think he's coming to understand why you left.  So much of his life the last fifteen years has been Ferelden, not just Highever."

“Loghain will come around, I think.  If he returns, of course.  He should never have chased after Maric.  Anora needs him.”  Lys sat down by her mum. 

“She does, but he’s stubborn and loved Maric like a brother.  I was more worried about you, my darling.  You’re my daughter afterall."

“I really am fine, Mum.  I feel happier, calmer, more useful.  I'm so glad you came to meet us here.  It means a lot.  I'm looking forward to visiting Highever on the way back to Cumberland.  I do miss you all."

Eleanor cocked her head, eyes narrowing, as she regarded her daughter.  "I think you are fine, Lys.  What I know, is that you're growing up.  Your Papa will see that too."  She drew Lys into a hug.  "Sometimes I miss that impulsive little girl, but the young woman you're becoming makes me so proud."

"I can still be impulsive.”  Lys objected, jumping up.  "Let's go to the market.  We’ll take Oriana.  I saw some purple silks yesterday which would be perfect for you and a green that would be lovely for her."  She stood and pulled her mother up and the two walked toward the palace.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Kai and Camilla joined their ladies and Teyrna Eleanor on the trip to the market, assuring Eleanor’s maid Tana that they would take good care of her.  Lys had several items on her list.  She had become fascinated by parasols, the pieces of stretched cloth Antivans carried to protect themselves from the sun.  They came in many colors and fabrics.  Some even offered protection from rain. 

“Oh, Lys, this is as bad as your fascination with masks.  What will you do with seven parasols?”  Eleanor threw up her hands laughing.

“I wear all my masks, Mum.  I will use these as well.”  She turned back to the vendor to arrange delivery to the Palazzo Falanni.

“I have more than seven, Eleanor,” Oriana admitted. 

“You didn’t bring them to Highever.”

“No, I was told I wouldn’t need them.  That it was too windy and not very sunny.”

“Well, that’s mostly true, but there must be at least four days in Bloomingtide when you could use them,” Lys joked.

Oriana giggled, “And maybe two in Justinian?  I think you are right.  I shall take a few back with me.  Perhaps I can set a new trend.”

“I’m thinking of doing that in Cumberland.  I’ve already suggested we purchase several score and see if they sell.  Cousin Samuel agreed.  Maybe we’ll even set up a shop to manufacture them.  Zev mentioned  
some come with daggers, which use the pole as the sheath and handle as the haft.”

Oriana and Eleanor chuckled and shook their heads.  “Oh Lys, you are right.  Some things about you haven’t changed.  Only you would want a parasol with a secret dagger.”

“Not so.  Kai would too.”

Kai grinned.  “But I would never carry one, unless it was to hold over your head.”

“That won’t happen!”

Eleanor and Oriana stopped at a chandler’s stall to view the scented soaps, a byproduct of the candle maker’s trade.  Lys looked for a bookseller.  Seeing one a few aisles over, she motioned to Kai to come with her, knowing Camilla would stay and let her mum and Oriana know where they had gone.  A few paces from the stall she stopped suddenly and Kai ran into her back.

“Maker Lys-“

“-hush!”

Kai looked up and saw what had halted Lys so suddenly.  Bent over the counter, a tall, broad shouldered man studied the books on offer.  His thin braids partially obscured a strong profile, but not his prominent nose.

“Speak to him.  You’ll never shut up about it if you don’t.”

Lys glared over her shoulder. 

“Be nice,” Kai hissed, “save the yelling for later.”

She nodded, knowing Kai was right.  _The market’s no place to take him to task._   _He might just walk away from me, anyway_.  She took a deep breath and walked up to her old friend.

“ _Signore_?  I wonder, could you hand me the book with the blue leather binding?  _Per favore_ ,”  she said quietly.

Loghain looked up, annoyed.  His expression changed to one of surprise.

“Lys?  Lys Cousland?”

“Have I changed so much, Ser?”

“And Mistress Tabris.”

Kia gave a small curtsy, “Your Grace.”

“I heard you had gone to Cumberland.”

“I did.  The traveled with a Haris barge down the Minanter to Bastion and a ship here.  We’re visiting the Falanni, Oriana’s family.  Mum, Oriana and Oren are here too.”

“Down the Minanter!  That’s quite a trip.”

“I’m working with House Haris now – apprenticing really.  I’ve left Ferelden.”

“I see…I think.  Nothing there for you?”  He hesitated.  “Surely, Cailan has relented by now?”

“No.  Papa remains in Highever with Fergus.”

“And Alistair?”

“Still at Dragon’s Peak.”

“Have you spoken with Anora?”

“No, but I will on our return.  We’ll stop in Ferelden.  By then you will have seen her though, right?”

“No.  We’re still searching.”

“In that case, you might want to run away.  If you don’t want to meet Mum that is, but…can _we_ meet?  Perhaps at the Haris _fondaco_?”  She guided him away from the bookstall and around a corner.

“Eleanor and Oriana are with you here in the market?”

“Yes, they’ll join us shortly.”

He thought for a moment.  “I see no reason not to see you or Eleanor, Lys.  Bryce didn’t come with her?”

“No.”

“Damn.”

“You would see him?”

“Yes.  One has a lot of time to think at sea.  I realized my mistake before I left.  Anora and I spoke of it in Denerim.  We hoped Cailan would relent as well.”

“I wasn’t sure you forgave him.  Are you here as Teyrn Mac Tir?”

He chuckled, “No, I’m here as Ser Gwaren, a Fereldan knight.”

“Well, Ser Gwaren,” Lys gestured to the booksellers stall, “we better introduce you to the Teyrna and Lady Cousland.  You’ll have to be a disreputable Fereldan knight I picked up in the market, I suppose.”  She looked him up and down.  “And given your attire, that will be easily believed, Ser.”

Loghain gave her one of his best glowers, then smiled.  “I missed you, Lady Cousland.”

She linked her arm through his and led him back to the bookseller’s stall.  “Me too, Ser Knight.”  She saw her mum talking to Kai and searching the crowd.  “Mum, I’m here and look what I found!”

“ _What_ you found?”  Loghain whispered.

“Disreputable knights, particularly disreputable Fereldan knights, are not who’s they are what’s,”  she hissed.

Her mum and Oriana could only have been more shocked if she had walked up with King Maric.

“Loghain-”

“Mum, Oriana, this is Ser Gwaren, a Fereldan knight I came upon while looking at the booksellers stall.  He has a particular fondness for maps.  I thought perhaps I would take him to the Haris _Fondaco_ to peruse our library.”

“Oh, Ser Gwaren,” Oriana held out her hand and Loghain gracefully took it in greeting.  “It’s so nice to meet you.  You must come to _Palazzo Falann_ i for dinner tomorrow.  We also have a library with many fine maps.  You may find the ones of the Rialto Sea and the Rivain and Antivan coasts of interest.  Please say you will come.”

Loghain, surprised at Oriana’s offer, agreed.  “I’m afraid my attire may not be entirely appropriate, My Lady.”

“Oh yes it will.  I can find exactly what you need at the _Fondaco_ ,” Lys assured him.

Loghain frowned.  “So the price of the library visit will be shopping?  You sound like Anora,” he grumbled.

Lys giggled, “Please don’t glare again, I won’t be able to stop laughing.”

Loghain turned to Eleanor.  “I owe you an apology, Eleanor.  Were Bryce here, and Maker I wish he were, I would beg his forgiveness.  I was a fool.”

“I don’t know what to say Loghain.  I hoped you would change your views, but-

“-you didn’t quite believe I would.”  His smile looked more like a grimace.  “Eleanor, this is not the place to talk.”

“I agree.  We can speak more tomorrow, but,” she reached for his hand and squeezed it, “thank you.”

The group parted, but first Loghain agreed to meet Lys at the Haris compound the next morning, before going to the joining the Falanni family for dinner.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“Finally, we have completed this order,” _Signore_ Galiani, a House Haris factor in Antiva City, continued as they inspected the shipments ready to leave the compound.  “These are the goods ordered by the Fereldans, _Signorina_ Haris.”  

“I will lead that meeting for you, Arturo, if you will allow it?  Of course, you must accompany me.”

“Of course, _Signorina_.  They are your countrymen, yes?”

“Yes, they are.  Who signed the order?”

“A _Signore_ Gwaren?”

“Good, I’m expecting him this morning on other business.”

“He will be here with the _Capitano_ then.”

Loghain arrived as the bells rang for the ninth hour.  Lys greeted him when he entered the interior courtyard. 

“Ser Gwaren.  Captain.  I am Layne Haris.  _Signore_ Galiani and I will take you to inspect your order.  Once you are satisfied, we can arrange transport to your ship.” 

Lys led them to the warehouse on the level below.  The warehouse and storerooms ran under the entire building and courtyard.  They opened out onto the docks and Rialto Bay on one side.  A carriage way led from the street along the side of the fondaco to the dock area.  A wide stairway, by the front gate, allowed smaller loads to be carried up to carts in the gateway courtyard.

The Fereldans seemed happy with the supplies offered.  Loghain left Captain Cranagh to work out transporting the goods to the _Mabari Rampant._   He and Hap followed Lys up a spiral staircase to the courtyard level.  First, they stopped at a small room where a tailor sat working.  Somehow, Lys had arranged for a fine white silk shirt, lightweight black wool trousers and a fine black leather jerkin to be ready for him.

“We had to guess at the fit, so please put them on.  _Signore_ Marcello will have them ready when we return from the library.”

Deciding argument would get him nowhere, Loghain put on the clothing and let the tailor make his measurements.

They continued up the stairway to the third level.  Here he saw studios for the Haris notaries and factors, separate rooms for meetings and finally, Lys’ destination, a corner room housing a large library, which looked out, through wide arched windows, onto the Bay.  Lys closed and locked the door behind them. 

“I prefer we not be disturbed, Ser Gwaren.”  She grinned and motioned for him to sit at the worktable under the large window.  Light reflected from the water made patterns on the walls and ceiling.  The windows, shutters drawn back, provided wonderful illumination. 

“I thought these might interest you.”  She put several rolled maps in front of him. 

He picked up each to read its label.  _Rivain, South: The East Coast from Llomerynn to East Point; Rivain North: The East Coast from East Point to Seere; The Northern Passage: Seere to Kont-arr; and The Venification Sea: The Antivan Coast._   Loghain looked up amazed.  The other maps included the Tevinter Coast, maps of Seheron and the surrounding islands, and even one of Par Vollen’s south coast.

“We’re merchants, Ser Gwaren, we map the coasts when we trade so we can return.”

He frowned.  “And the name Layne Haris?”

“My traders name.  It’s best I am not noticed as a Cousland.  And I am a Haris, through my Haris great-grandmother Eleonora.  Haris cousins abound, so merchants take little notice of me, or rather my name.  Pointing to herself, she grinned again, “Me, they notice.”

Loghain chuckled.  “And learning humility, I see.”

“Just realism.  I’m good.  I’m still learning, but I learn quickly.  Cousin Samuel tells me I’m a natural at negotiation.  All my chatter being put to good use, I suppose.” 

“Well, persuasion was always a strength of yours, that I will acknowledge.  I’m not sure which parent you learned that from.”

“Both, I hope, but enough.  I have another item.”  She put a thick book before him. 

Bound in well-worn plain brown leather, it opened easily.  “It’s a rutter?”

“It is.  For the Northern Passage and Venefication Sea through to Seheron and surrounding islands.”  She handed him another roll of parchment.  “The charts that go with it.  I’m told the eastern coast of Rivain is long, but not particularly tricky.  From Seere north into the Passage and Venefication Sea, however, treacherous waters take many ships.  If you insist on continuing your search, as I suspect you will, I’d like to see you complete it safely.’  She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned.  “I would prefer you go home to Anora and Cailan, but with all my persuasive skills I won’t succeed in getting you back to Denerim, will I?”

Hap butted his head against Loghain’s thigh. 

“What, you think between you, you’ll convince me?”

Hap growled.

“No to both of you.  I will continue up the coast after I stop in Llomerynn.”

Lys sat beside him.  “What have you learned?”

“Nothing.  No trace of him or the Demelza.  We’ve searched from Alamar to Llomerynn and around the Rialto Bay Coast.  We still have to search from here to Bastion, but I think we will find nothing there.  I believe answers lie in Llomerynn or farther north.”

“And you think a Fereldan naval vessel is the best transport?”

“I have another helping to search.  A Rivaini pirate named Isabela, who I knew and occasionally employed in Denerim.  I met her in Llomerynn before I came here.  I’ll meet her again before we head up the Rivaini coast.”

“She found nothing?”

“She found rumors of an unmarked ship.  A black ship.  Heading north.  Noting concrete.  She’s looking further.”

Lys began to roll up the maps and put each in its leather case.  “These are a loan.  I expect you to come back and return them to me.”  She turned to look at him directly, reaching out to touch is forearm.  “Teyrn Loghain, Anora and Cailan need you.  I wish you would rethink this, but if you won’t, at least return safely.”

“Thank you, Lys.  These maps, the charts, the rutter, I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

“Just return, for me and for Ali.  For Anora and for Cailan.  He would want you to return to us.”  She stood abruptly and leaned over the table to gather up the map cases.  “Now, let’s gather these up and put them in a chest.  There’s just enough time to get them on the lighter with Captain Cranagh and the rest of your goods.  Your navigator should be given time to review them.  “She straightened.  “You have let the navigator do his job.”

Loghain’s eyes narrowed then he pursed his lips.  “He insisted on it.  And you are doing an excellent imitation of my daughter.”

Lys laughed.  “Good man, you’re navigator.  And I hope so, since Anora is not here.  Someone needs to speak up to you.”

“Alright Lady Haris, let’s get these to Cranagh and go to your good sister’s home.”

“No, first we get the clothing for a visit to an Antivan _palazzo_ , Ser Gwaren.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

On their way to the dock, Lys stopped by her small bedroom and studio to get Sherpa.  Sherpa bumped and pawed at Hap in greeting.  Enjoying their reunion the two mabari siblings trotted after their people.  They stopped at the tailor to pick up a bundle with Loghain’s new clothes, before continuing to the portico by the docks.  With the chest safely in Captain Cranagh’s hands, the two humans and their mabari returned to the courtyard, where Zevran and Kai waited along with four Falanni guards.

“Is it that dangerous to walk through the city?”  Loghain asked.

“It can be, Ser Gwaren,” Zevran replied.  “My patrons take no needless risks.  Shall we be off then?”

The guards took up positions forming a square.  Zev and Sherpa led from between the front guards, while Kai and Hap walked behind.  Lys and Loghain walked in the center.  Zev maintained a steady pace, but not so fast Loghain could not look at the buildings and landmarks as they passed.

“Have you heard from you daughter, Ser Gwaren?”  Lys asked.

“No.  She wouldn’t know where to send a message.”

“Ah, but she would.”  Lys passed him a thick letter.  “She sent it to me, knowing we planned on coming here.  She hoped we could figure out how to reach you.  You made it easy.  Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Lady Haris.”  He tucked the letter into the inner pocket of his jerkin.

Zev led them up a hill through the merchant and artisans’ quarter east of the market and the fine houses of the noble districts.  As they climbed the hill on the road that led out of the quarter, a cart lumbered into the road ahead of them.  Loghain heard the guards and elf swear.

“Back,” Zevran ordered.

When they turned, five armed men came out of the alley behind them.  The arrows came next.  Two archers shot from atop the cart barricading the roadway.

“Zev, Kai and I will take the archers,” Lys yelled as she pulled Kai toward the cart.  They zigzagged their way up the street. 

“Let the girls go,” one bandit yelled.  “They’re not important.”  The archers and the soldier protecting them, ignored Lys and Kai. 

“I think they believe we’re running away,” Kai said.

“Their mistake.”

The women split, going to either side of the cart.  Lys took on the single soldier, while Kai toppled one archer from his perch on the cart.  Lys calmed as she settled into her practiced moves.  She had taken the soldier by surprise when she drew her daggers.  The first thrust had been hers and it had scored a hit on his shield arm, before he could raise the shield to block.  Now the arm could not support the shield or wield a dagger.  He fought desperately with his sword, but Lys persisted, dancing out of his reach and spinning to her left.  She slipped behind his guard to slice his sword arm disabling it.  He dropped his sword.  With both arms too damaged to hold a weapon, he ran.

Lys sheathed one of her daggers and picked up the discarded sword.  Hefting it, she found it well balanced.  Now she could fight with her preferred weapons:  sword and dagger.  Kai had disabled one of the archers and broken her bow.  She too, had retreated, badly injured.

The two Fereldan women turned to the second archer who had drawn his own daggers.  Kai ran to the front of the cart where the shafts rested on boxes.  She pushed the boxes away causing the shafts to drop and the cart to tip forward.  The archer fell.  Kai and Lys then used the slope of the hill to push the small cart over.  The archer fell out and started to tumble towards the fighting below.  Along the way, he lost his daggers. 

Lys and Kai followed the archer, grabbing his daggers and throwing them back up the hill out of reach.  The archer bounced into one of her compatriots as Lys and Kai caught up.  The archer lay still, unconscious, but the other soldier attempted to rise.  Lys quickly sliced his arm, but he did not drop his sword.  Swinging wildly, with no shield, he opened himself to attack.  Lys did, stabbing into his gut and twisting.  As blood spurted over her Lys realized she had killed him.  She stood, stunned at what she had done.

“Lys,” Kai yell brought her back to the fight, “Let’s help the Teyrn.  He seems to be the target of this attack.”

Lys saw that two Falanni guards were down.  Loghain, Zev and the other two guards continued to fight against six men.  _Where did they all come from?_

Charging into the fight, they took the attackers by surprise.  Two turned to face the new threat.  The young women fought shoulder to shoulder, protecting each other as they thrust, parried and dodged the strikes from their adversaries.  A foot tripped one attacker.  Kai followed it with a kick to head, which gave them time to concentrate strikes on the other.  They had disarmed him before his partner regained consciousness.  Weaponless the first ran off.  Kai sliced the throat of the second.

With the women’s help shifting the balance, the remaining attackers were disarmed, disabled or killed.

“What was that about?”  Zev glared at Loghain.  “It didn’t occur to you to say you were hunted?”

Loghain glared back.  “What makes you think they were after me?  Why not you?”

“Gentlemen, let’s not compete.”  Lys held up her hands to quiet the men, wincing as she did so.  “I think we can agree Kai and I were not the targets.  The archers were going to let us flee, but they were targeting you Ser Gwaren.  They kept yelling that the target is the tall one in black.”

She turned to Loghain.  “Why would you think Zev was their target?”

“He’s a Crow.”

Kai looked puzzled.  Lys turned to Zevran.  “Your tattoo.  It’s a Crow tattoo?”

Zev nodded. 

“That explains much.”

“Explains much what, Lys?”  Kai asked.

“His alias.  His skills.  His ties to the Falanni.  His surname.”  Hands on hips, Lys turned to Zev, “House Arainai of the Crows.  Affiliated with merchant house Falanni.”

“Correct, _cara_ ,” he said gently.  “Is that a problem?”

“No.  You should have told me, but no.  But _you_ ,” she turned to Loghain.  “Who doesn’t want you to continue your voyage?  And does this mean you are close?”

“Lys, we should not discuss this here, yes?”

“You’re right, of course, Zev.  Let’s go before more follow.”  She turned to lead the group up the hill to the _palazzo_ district.

The two fallen guards had survived and could walk with the help of their fellows.  The group continued to the Falanni palace with no further incidents.  Kai, however, kept watching Lys.  The young woman’s left arm hung awkwardly.  Blood soaked her sleeve, but Lys refused her aid.  She breathed easier when Zev stopped them and wrapped it with his scarf to staunch the bleeding.  

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The group went directly to the guard’s quarters upon entering the Palazzo .  The guard sergeant sent for healers.  Everyone had bruises and small cuts.  Lys’s injury, a deep cut to the upper left arm, though not life threatening, proved the worst.  Fortunately, the blade had not been poisoned.  To Lys relief, the Falanni’s kept a mage healer.  With magic, her arm would be like new in a few days, not the weeks normal healing would take.  With all wounds cleaned, bandaged and healed, they made their way into the palace proper.

By the time she reached her rooms, Oriana and Teyrn Eleanor had learned of the fight from Zevran, as had Oriana’s parents.  Teyrna Eleanor and Oriana arrived in Lys’ rooms soon after she and Kai.

“Mum, I…we are fine.  I had a cut, but it’s mostly healed.”

Lys looked pale and when her mother cupped her cheek, her skin felt clammy.

“You don’t seem to have a fever.”

“It was a fight Mum, not the plague.  Of course I don’t have a fever.”

“You’re still pale Lys.  That would be loss of blood, then.  You should rest.”

“Your Mum’s right, My Lady, the healers said the same.”

Lys gave Kai a sidelong glare.

“I need a bath, a change of clothes and a walk in the gardens.  I’ll go to bed early, but I can’t lie still now.”

“That will suffice, Lys.  The garden is a good idea.  We’ll let you alone to bathe, but keep Kai with you.”

“Do I have a choice?”  Lys grumbled, then stopped as she realized how worried Eleanor was.  “Yes, Mum, I’ll keep her close.  I’m sure she’d like to clean up too.”  Lys rubbed the bridge of her nose.  “I’ll tell you all about it later, Mum, alright?  And Loghain’s here.  He’s been shown to some rooms to clean up too.  Kai retrieved Loghain’s bundle of new clothes after the fight, so he can change.  I think Zev is looking after him.”

Eleanor took Lys’ chin in her hands.  “Lys, I did fight in the Rebellion.  Your first fight is horrible.  It’s all so…raw.  Talk to me; or to Loghain.”

Lys nodded.  “I will.  I just need to think on my own first.  And it wasn’t my first.  We fought bandits on the Minanter.”

The Teyrna and Kai exchanged looks.  Kai nodded.  “I’ll stay with her, Teyrna Eleanor, it wasn’t my first, either.  I…well It wasn’t always peaceful in the Alienage.”

“I know Kailian.  And I know that you know what I mean.”

Kai flushed.  _So the Teyrn and Teyrna had discovered her past.  Her all too frequent skirmishes, some deadly, with nobles and guards._   She had wondered how much they knew.  _They know and I’m still here serving Lys.  They understand it was necessary._   “I do.  I’ll stay with Lys.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Feeling clean and even somewhat rested after a hot bath, Lys and Kai walked out into the gardens.  Oriana’s mother had dinner sent up to them.  Now they wandered the garden paths until they found a quiet spot, with a breeze, near a small fountain.  Unlike Cumberland, where statues adorned every possible surface, Antiva City’s fewer statues were placed for effect.  Carefully trimmed hedges and trees surrounded a round pool with a marble mermaid spouting water from her mouth over a playful child.

Rather than take a seat on the benches surrounding the pool, Lys sank to the ground and leaned against the retaining wall on the east side of the paved area.  She put her arms around her knees.  Kai sat beside her, knees bent.

“It’s not as if this was my first fight.”

“It was your first fight with a blade.  It’s different.  You’re at a distance with a bow, even when you kill.”

“Was it bad for you?  Your first kill with a blade?”

“Yes.  A blade is always worse.  It’s more…personal.  The sensation, the blood…watching death happen.  You can see their eyes.”

Lys sat silently watching the water arc towards the upturned face and hands of the child.

Kai touched her shoulder, then slipped her arm around her.  Lys leaned against her.

“I feel like I should cry or mourn or something.  Right now I don’t feel anything.”

“Feeling numb…I think I felt that way too.”

“Does it get easier?”

They heard steps.  Two mabari joined them, then Teyrn Loghain.  Lys sat up as Sherpa curled up next to her.

“It does get easier,” Loghain replied.  “The time to worry, however, is when it doesn’t bother you.  I reached that point too many times, I’m afraid.”

“You didn’t care?”  Kai asked.

“If the person was Orlesian or a traitor to Ferelden, I wanted them dead.”

Lys put her head on her knees as Loghain and Kai talked. 

“I feel that way about certain… _shems_.  I’ve learned that not all humans are _shems_ , but for the ones that are…I shed no tears.”

“Maric reacted more like you, Kai.  He was fierce in battle, a formidable swordsman and always in the forefront risking too much.  All of us would have followed him to the storm the Black City if he asked.  The only Fereldans he never regretted killing were Ceorlic and the others who killed his mother.  He never regretted Meghren, Severus or the Chevaliers who terrorized our people.  He did regret our own people, who only went along because they had to, or who regretted their betrayal.”  Loghain winced as he recalled the one death that Maric never stopped regretting.  “Or who died serving him.  He said every death took a piece of him.”

Lys’ voice muffled as she kept her head lowered, she asked, “So I should feel badly?  Even though they tried to kill us?” 

“You should be sad because they died, not because you fought.  They were not innocents.  They chose to attack us.  You should also understand that what you did today, slicing a man open with your blade, stays with you.  You don’t hesitate at the time – you’re training takes over, as yours did today.  Afterwards, sometimes long afterwards… the sounds, the smells, the feel of blade on skin…it all comes back.  You did well today Lys.  Your instincts told you to take out the archers and you did.  You used the advantage they gave, when they ignored you.  You and Kai worked well together, protecting each other.  Your training took you through.  You both did everything you could and you did it well.” 

“Thank you, I think.”  She raised her head and smiled, weakly. 

Loghain turned to Kai.  “Her injury was not your fault.  You protected her sword arm.  You could do no more.”

“I suppose all this is high praise from the General of Ferelden’s armies.”  Lys’ smile broadened slightly.

“Very high praise, indeed, Lys Cousland.”  Teyrna Eleanor sat on the bench beside Loghain.

“Mum?  Maker, I thought I came out to be alone.”

“Well, I didn’t come to find you.  Just to walk.  It’s not every day my only daughter gets injured in battle.  I’m a little shaken myself.”  Eleanor faced Loghain.  “I understand you’re to blame?”

“I…,” He shrugged, “I suppose I am.”

“Mum!”

“I didn’t know we were at risk, Eleanor-“

The Teyrna reached out to grasp his arm.  “-I understand, Loghain.  Someone must think you found something.”

“I only wish I knew what that was.”  He sat quietly for a time, the only noise the fountain.  “What can you tell me of Ferelden?”

“Anora and Cailan did well at their first Landsmeet.  They seem to work well together.  Their advisors, however, are a worry.  Eamon and Howe vie for their attention.  Eamon, as usual, maintains his ties to Orlais, although his goals are not clear.  Isolde visited her family again this year, accompanied by her priest, Eleutheria.  It appears any instructions come through her.  House Haris’ intelligence finds nothing else, although we try. 

“Howe appears loyal, but we hear nothing of Juliana, his wife.  Delilah has become a Lady-in-Waiting.  She does as Howe tells her, so I suspect she will tell him everything she hears or sees in Anora’s company.  Thomas remains at South Reach.  No one hears from or of Nathaniel, but we understand he remains in Markham with his cousins.  Howe’s ties to Tevinter seem to strengthen each year.  More trade, although we aren’t sure exactly what it is he’s trading.  We do know he has magisters at Vigil’s Keep and at Amaranthine House, in Denerim.  He says they are healers, but why he needs so many is a puzzle.  Apparently, they cannot cure Juliana.

“Cailan, we understand, seems enamored with his wife and she with him.  He’s not been seen spending nights away from the Palace.  Their partnership seems to extend to all parts of their lives.”

“Well, that at least is good news.  Although I’d be happier if Anora fell pregnant.”

“You and the rest of Ferelden.”

“And Bryce?”

“Stays in Highever.  As does Fergus.  We attended the Landsmeet and one affair at the Palace, then left the city.  Cailan is adamant that he won’t see either Bryce or Fergus.  Leonas tells us that Eamon encourages him in this.  Howe might, too, but not so openly.  They need-“

“-you won’t convince me Eleanor.  I will return, but not until I’m sure he’s not to be found.”

“Don’t be too long.  Once the year is up, the bannorn will become restive, if there is no heir.  Cailan and Anora will have more problems.  Eamon and Howe will become more difficult to control.  Anora needs you.”  Eleanor stood as fireflies began to light the surrounding garden.  “Giuliana and Antonio always take brandy under the portico by the dining hall.  Please join us.”  She held out a hand. 

Loghain rose and gave her his arm.  “As you wish.”  He held out his hand to Lys.

“Kai and I will be along, soon I promise.” 

Loghain and Eleanor left.

“Well, that was interesting, tho’ not surprising.  Nice of Mum to update both of us.”

“She gets along well with him.”

Lys frowned as she glanced sideways at Kai. 

“I don’t mean…not that there’s anything but friendship.  Maker, I can put my foot in it!”

Lys chuckled softly.  “Thank you.  I needed that spot of humor.  They’re old friends Kai.  She and Papa fought with Loghain and Maric for years during the Rebellion.  Until Maric disappeared, they came to Highever often.  Cailan too.  It was the one place they could all set aside Court protocol.  That it’s all fallen apart with Maric gone is…tragic.”

She leaned back against the wall listening to the water and watching the fireflies.  “I think I can go back now.  I’m feeling more normal.”

“You may feel worse again.”

“I’ll deal with that when it happens.”  She extended a hand to pull Kai up, then hugged her.  “I have you to lean on.  And you have me.  Thank you.”

“Anytime.”  Kai grinned.  “It was exciting.”

“Yes, well, I can do with that kind of excitement in small doses.”  She smirked.

“What’s the smirk for?”

“Maybe you should keep Zevran company on some of his escapades if you want excitement.”  Lys glanced at her friend.  “Kailian Tabris, you’re blushing!”

“He’s…handsome.  A bit short, but very well made.”

“And Nelaros?”

“Is nice, but not exciting.  Is that awful?”

“No.  Depends what you want and how you feel.”

“Well, I’ll probably never see Zevran again after we leave so nothing to worry about, right?”

“Oh, I don’t know.  I wouldn’t want you to just settle for Nelaros, good man though he is.”

“So I should romance Zev, then leave and pine away like you?”

Lys stared at the ground.  Finally, she looked up.  “It’s better than settling, Kai.”  She smiled sadly and tugged Kai along toward the palazzo

* * *

[22]Fondaco:  merchant compound combining the warehouse, offices and living quarters

[23] Segreant:  On a crest, a creature _segreant_ is facing towards the viewer’s left and has both forelegs raised in the air, as a mabari rampant, with wings elevated and addorsed ( apart facing each other).  This term is reserved to winged quadrupeds (such as griffins and dragons).  Wikipedia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her efforts to improve my rusty Italian and the story’s flow. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and those who Reviewed recently: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, nh09jrb, katdancer2, EasternViolet and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. It helps me keep going, knowing others enjoy Lys, Alistair, Loghain, Anora and their companions.


	38. Home to Highever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autumn 9:26 Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

 “Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 38 – HOME TO HIGHEVER**

* * *

**9:26 Dragon, Justinian  ===  Antiva City**

Lys stood on the Haris docks, arms folded, a frown plastered on her face.  A pilot boat guided a large caravel out of the harbor.  The name, _Mabari Rampant_ , stood out across its stern.  She could just make out a tall, dark haired man standing at the stern rail.

“Damn him to the Void and back,” she muttered.  She watched the Fereldan ship until its hull disappeared over the horizon moving south.  “If only heading south meant he was going home.”  She loved Loghain as she would an uncle.  She understood that _he_ loved Maric like a brother.  What she could not understand was how he could abandon his daughter, Anora, and Alistair, the boy he claimed to love like a son, to chase after Maric.

“Talking to yourself, already.  I’ve heard that’s a bad sign, particularly in one so young and nubile.”

Lys whirled around.  “Zevran, you owe us lessons.  We can use the practice yard.  Where’s Kai?”

“As you command, my lady.  The lovely elf is already there readying for our sparring match.”

“Good.  We can learn stealth while in armor.”  Lys strode off towards the stairway, which would take her to the courtyard and the passage to the practice yard behind the stables.  Kai greeted her friend.

“You planning on murdering a practice dummy or taking it out on Zev and me?”

“Practice dummy, for now.  You can spar with Zev.  When I calm down and you lose to him, he can show us more stealth moves.”

Zev chuckled, holding his hands up in front of him.  “Far be it from me to disagree with an angry warrior goddess.”

“Would that be me or Lys?”  Kai queried, eyes narrowing.

“Lys, at the moment, but I wouldn’t disagree with you either, _cara._   Now let’s see if you can defeat me.”

Ly’s anger diminished, although daily sparring matches followed for the remainder of their stay.  The Cousland party remained in Antiva City for only a few days after Loghain’s departure, before boarding ship themselves for Higheverport. 

**9:26 Dragon, Justinian ===  Aboard the _Mabari Rampant_**

Loghain opened Anora’s letter again as he stood on the poop deck of the _Mabari_.  She and Cailan got along well, she reported, except where the Couslands and Alistair were concerned.  Cailan continued to feel unsure of himself, but he covered it with bluster and feigned confidence.  He vacillated.  One day he hung on Eamon’s every word, the next he argued incessantly and did the opposite of what Eamon advised.  On only three topics did he always stand with Eamon:  the Couslands, Alistair and the need for a Theirin heir.  The lack of the latter was not for want of trying, she assured her father.

As for the Couslands, Cailan, parroting Eamon, insisted the family presented a continued threat.  He was not happy with Lys’ departure to Cumberland or Eleanor and Oriana’s visit to Antiva.  Anora suspected Howe fed these fears, but had no proof.  The slippery Arl couched his concerns carefully, as he walked a fine line between loyalty to his liege and the Crown.  Anora focused on persuading Cailan to meet with Fergus, leaving Bryce in disfavor, but failed.  Her influence only went so far before the two Arl’s disparaged her _womanly_ views.  The Couslands needed a stronger voice at Court to balance that of the Arls’; a voice Loghain could provide.  If he spoke up, other nobles would as well.   

Nor was Cailan inclined to acknowledge Alistair.  Neither Eamon nor Howe wanted Maric’s second son at Court.  Both encouraged Cailan to leave him under Chantry supervision.  Howe believed he should remain at Dragon’s Peak until he came of age, when he should become a knight and be married off to some safe noble woman.  Anora wondered if Howe meant Delilah. 

Eamon wanted Alistair to become a full Templar, without knighthood, but not until he had, as Eamon put it, reformed.  Eamon recommended service at Kinloch Hold with few privileges and close supervision to effect that reformation.  He expected it would take some time as Alistair, as he put it, was a miscreant and needed more discipline than Dragon’s Peak provided.  Teagan leaned towards Arl Howe’s opinion.  Anora was Alistair’s only champion, unless Loghain returned to help her.

Anora argued for Loghain’s return as persuasively as Eleanor and Lys, but even her entreaties could not sway her father from his mission.  Perhaps if the attack had not happened, he would believe Maric truly gone.  Loghain believed that the attack against him in Antiva City proved he had found something.  Now he just needed to determine what it was that he had found.  He would continue his search along the coast south to Bastion, then meet Isabela in Llomerynn.  Perhaps between them they could make headway.  The maps, charts and rutter Lys provided would be invaluable as they took the search north following the rumors that the Demelza had sailed towards Par Vollen and Seheron.

**9:26 Dragon, Justinian and Solace   ===  Aboard the _Green Dragon_**

Teyrna Eleanor, Lady Oriana, Lys, Kai, Oren, Cousin Samuel and Zevran made up the party returning on the Haris ship, _Green Dragon_ , to Higheverport.  Only a few troops from Hrothgar’s Wrath joined the Cousland Guard; the other Wrath would remain garrisoned at the compound in Antiva City.  After the attack on the Loghain, everyone, the Falanni, the Arainai Crows, and House Haris, became more conscious of security.  If the attackers were Crows, they had not given away their house.  If not Crows, no one knew what mercenary company provided them.  While the target appeared to be Loghain, no one knew for sure.  Cousin Samuel wanted the Antiva City _Fondaco_ , its employees and its goods well-guarded.

The company boarded the _Green Dragon_ in the evening.  The ship would leave on the early morning tide before they woke.  As the flagship of the Haris fleet, the caravel offered decent accommodations in the rear castle and an expansive main deck large enough for sparring.  Teyrna Eleanor and Oriana shared a cabin with an adjoining servant’s room for Oren and Nurse Freya, who had returned to Castle Cousland to care for Oren.  Kai and Lys had a small compartment.  Samuel, as head of House Haris, shared the more expansive Captain’s quarters, which had been specially built to accommodate a Samuel, when he traveled with the ship .  The _Green Dragon_ had billets for the Cousland and Wrath troops, since Haris merchant ships always carried a contingent of soldiers.  Zevran bunked with them.

The voyage to Highever would take about a month.  The _Dragon_ would make port in Wycombe and Ostwick to take on supplies and water.  It would not trade in the Marches on this trip.  The _Dragon_ carried cargo destined for Highever and Nevarra.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The first days out from Antiva City were windy, with storms threatening.  Kai and Lys ventured on deck, but Eleanor, Oriana, Freya and Oren remained in their cabin.  Finally, a clear morning dawned.  The brisk breeze kept the sails full, but did not discourage everyone from coming on deck.  Oren, wearing a harness and rope tethering him to the mainmast ran after Zevran.  He wore the pirate scarf and brandished a stick Lys had found. 

“Oh ho, dread pirate Oren, can you catch this poor sailor?”

“Catch Zev,” Oren squealed, laughing and running after the elf.

Zev pretended to stumble and Oren jumped on top of him.  “Got Zev!  Got Zev!”

Lys snuck up behind the toddler and began to tickle him.  “Oh no, the dread pirate Oren is ticklish!  I can free Zev.”

“No, no, no.  Keep Zev.”

Zev almost escaped then tripped over Kai’s extended foot and fell much to Oren’s delight.

Oren pounced on Zev again and Kai helped him by putting her foot on Zev’s back.  “There Oren, he’s caught.”

“Caught, am I?  I think not, my lovely elf,” Zevran said as he swept Kai’s legs out from under her.  The three, Oren, Kai and Zevran fell into a tangled heap on the deck laughing.  Oren wriggled free and his Aunt Lys picked him up, releasing the rope from his harness, while Kai and Zev extricated themselves from Oren’s tether. 

Zev’s arm snaked around Kai’s waist pulling the tether and bringing Kai closer. 

“Um, Zevran, I think you’re making this worse not better.”

“Being hugged by a handsome elf is worse.  Oh, _cara,_ why do you insist on wounding me?”

“I thought you were undoing the rope.”

“I can do both.  I can do even three things at once.  Perhaps steal a kiss.  I move quite stealthily you know.  Perhaps you won’t even know I’ve stolen a kiss, although I am such an awesome kisser that is unlikely.”  Before she could respond, he kissed her.

“Zev!”

“What?  I warned you.  You did not object.  Was it not awesome enough?  Should we try again.”

“I…no, not again.  Everyone is watching us.”  Kai blush deepened.

“Ah, you don’t want an audience.  Well, perhaps Lys will allow us use of your cabin.”

“No!  No cabin.  Just loosen this rope.”  Kai turned to Lys.  “And you, stop laughing.  This is not funny.  You’re just encouraging him.”

Zevran untangled the rope and Kai jumped to her feet, still blushing. 

“You…Zevran Arainai…don’t do that again.”  Kai stalked off.

“I moved too quickly, yes?”

“I think so, Zev.  She’s confused.”  Lys grew serious.  “Don’t toy with her Zevran.  I know you’re a flirt and may not take this seriously.  Kai may appear to flirt back, but it will be serious for her.”

Zev frowned.  “I will be careful.  I have no wish to hurt her.  I…do not take things so seriously I’m afraid.  It’s hard to take life seriously in my profession.”

“Come work for us Zev.  Leave the Crows.”

“Ah _cara_ , thank you, but I am who I am.  A Crow.  One does not leave the Crows.  At least not alive.”

Lys nodded, sadly.  “I’m sorry.  You’re a good man, I think.  You should have other options.”

Zev smiled.  _A good man?  No one has ever accused me of that before.  Yet she knows what I am.  Or does she?  Perhaps she only sees the guard and not the assassin._ He shook his head and walked away to stand at the rail.  He never knew quite what to make of the Couslands.  The Falanni treated him as they did their guard officers.  To them he was a professional.  The Couslands treated him as a senior household member.  He was a professional, but also a…friend of sorts.  He would have to be careful returning to Highever.  He could get too comfortable there and that would not be safe.

**9:26 Dragon, Funalis Fest and August  ===  Highever**

The Green Dragon entered Higheverport with the evening tide, just as the sun set over the city.  They had made good time, arriving in less than a month.  No one waited on the quay to alert the Castle.  Leaving the rest of the party on board, several sailors rowed the lighter to the docks with Kai, Zevran and Lys on board.  The three companions walked the two miles to the Castle to let the Teyrn and Fergus know they had arrived.

 _Home,_ Lys thought as they climbed the hill to castle gate.  _Is it still home?_   It all seemed so familiar and yet so strange.  She had only been gone six months, but it seemed longer.  _It will feel like home when I get settled in my old rooms._

Stopped by the guards at the castle gate, Lys held up her signet ring.  The man was not a guard she knew.  “I’m Lady Melysande Cousland, the Teyrn’s daughter.  Our ship, the _Green Dragon_ , just arrived from Antiva City.” 

The guard snorted.  “And I’m the King of Ferelden, my lady.  As if the Teyrn’s daughter would arrive in armor, on foot, with two elves.”

Lys crossed her arms and glared at the guard.  “If you have questions about letting me in, please call the Guard Captain Rickon or Seneschal Mowry.  Either can identify me.”

“We weren’t told to expect the Teyrn’s family tonight.  They’re not expected for days, yet.” 

“Traveling by ship is unpredictable, Guard…what is your name?  We arrived on the tide.”

“My name is not your concern.  I don’t want to disturb the Captain for a girl in leathers and two elves.  Perhaps you should dress up a bit the next time you try to impersonate one.  We’ve had enough trouble here lately.  I’ll not introduce more.”

“What!  Anyone here who knows me will assure you that I dress in leathers as often as I do in silk.  I don’t walk through a city, even Highever, unarmed at night.”

“Sorry, my lady, I have my orders.”

“Orders to keep me out?”

“Orders to ensure no dangerous persons enter the castle.”  He looked at his partner and chuckled.  “Although I gotta admit, I see no danger in a girl and two elves.”

“And I showed you my signet and requested that you call the Guard Captain or the Seneschal.  Now do so or you may find just how dangerous this girl can be.”

 The two guards laughed, as several horseman rode up beside them. 

 “My Lord Fergus, we’ve a bit of a problem here.  These vagabonds insist on entry and won’t take no for an answer.  This one,” he pointed at Lys, “actually threatened us.”  He started laughing again.

Fergus dismounted to see the vagabonds.

“And I’ll threaten you too Fergus Cousland if we don’t gain entry,” one of the vagabonds said.  “Worse, Mum and Oriana will have your hide for making them wait on board the _Dragon_.”

 “Lys?”

“So you, at least, recognize me, in spite of the dark?” she teased, then pointed to guard.  “Tell this idiot to let us in.  I showed Guard Harold my signet, but he refuses to let me in or to call anyone to identify me.”

“Harold?  What’s the problem?”

“My Lord.  I didn’t believe her, My Lord.  A girl  and two elves…not exactly the company I’d expect for the Teyrn’s daughter.”

“We’ll have a word about Cousland signet rings and companions in the morning Harold.  Then perhaps my sister and her friends will spar with you and you will understand just how dangerous a _girl_ and two elves can be.  Now let my sister and her companions in, before you insult them further.  My mother, wife and son are waiting for me, apparently, so we’ll be off to the docks to retrieve them.”  He looked down at Lys, “Sorry for the poor welcome, Lyssie, I’ll welcome you properly when we return.”

“Yes, of course, my lord,” Harold replied.  “It’s just that after the attacks-“

“-in the morning, guardsman.”

“Right.  Come in, My Lady.  I apologize.” 

“Accepted, guardsman.“  Lys threw her arms around Fergus before he could remount.  “It’s been too long.  I missed you Ferg.”

“Me too, Lyssie.  Who’s your friend?”

“Kai, surely you remember Kai?”

Fergus pursed his lips, as Lys grinned.

“Fergus, perhaps you remember Zed?”

“Zed?  Oh, of course, did the Falanni’s ask you to accompany Oriana again?”

“Your entire family, my lord.  Some extra protection.  I’ll be traveling with Lys, Kai and Sieur Samuel while they are in Ferelden at the Falanni’s behest.  I’ll return to Antiva City once I see them safely to Cumberland.”

“Good.  Glad to hear it.”

“In the meantime, I’ll be happy to accompany you back to the quay.  I think your wife and son are anxious to see you.  Lys and Kai can remain here and let the Teyrn know we’ve arrived.”  He looked at Lys for agreement.

“Agreed, Zev.  You can explain your name change to Fergus on the way.”  She grinned and then addressed Fergus.  “Is Papa in his study?”

“Should be, Lys.”

Harold opened the night door in the gate and Lys and Kai passed through.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Kai went to Lys’ rooms to ready them, while Lys went in search of Teyrn Bryce.  She knocked on the door of his study.

“What now, Mowry?”

Lys opened the door.  “You have visitors, Papa.”

“Lys?”

“Have I changed that much in five months?”

“No, no of course not.  We didn’t expect you so soon.”  The Teyrn stood and came around the worktable to hug her.

“We had good winds and got in tonight.  Fergus went to the docks with some guards to bring Mum, Oriana, Oren and Cousin Samuel back.”

“Good.  It will be good to have you all home again.”  He cupped Lys cheek.  “Thank you.  For keeping your promise to return for Funalis.”

“You’re welcome, Papa.  Does the Arl have many festivities planned for Higheverport?”

“I think so.  You’ll have to see Pippa tomorrow.  I’m sure she has all the details.”

“Papa, the guard said something about an attack.  Have there been troubles?”

“Nothing for you to worry about, Lys.  Just some rather aggressive bandits.  We’ve taken care of them.”

“I see.  That’s good then.”  _Why would bandits try to get into Castle Cousland?  Fergus had better tell me tomorrow.  I think Zevran should hear it too.  Would Arl Guerrin hire assassins to attack Papa and Loghain?  Maybe the attack in Antiva City had nothing to do with Loghain’s search.  Or is it all tied to Orlais?  Of course, if it’s the Guerrins it could all be directed by Orlais._

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lys and Bryce went to the baily to await the arrival of the others.  One of the sailors who rowed Lys ashore had gone to the Haris compound in Higheverport to arrange a cart for the rest of the group.  Their chests and belongings would be brought ashore with the cargo in the morning.  Fergus, Zev and the Cousland guards met the Haris cart at the docks just as the party from the _Green Dragon_ arrived.

“Papa!”  A sleepy Oren woke up as he recognized his father.  “Ride.  Oren ride.”

After hugging Oriana and his Mum, Fergus mounted Sarim and Oriana handed Oren up to him. 

“Are you sure he’s awake enough to ride with you?”

“It’s only to the castle, love.  We’ll be fine.”

The group arrived in the baily after a short, uneventful ride from the docks.  Freya took Oren off to bed, while the adult Couslands  and Samuel Haris gathered in the solar for refreshments, too wide-awake to go to bed right away.  Lys sat with them for a short time, before excusing herself to find Kai and Zev.  She was not ready to answer her father’s questions or discuss her future plans.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Funalis in Highever included the same Chantry services as elsewhere in Ferelden.  The services commemorated the death of Andraste and the Fereldan Fallen from the Rebellion, Occupation and earlier wars.  In Highever, those who died defeating the werewolves during th lycanthrope plague were also remembered.  All wore a sprig of Andraste’s Grace to honor her and to remember the dead and fallen.

All through Funalis Eve and Funalis Night, a great bonfire burned on the coast outside the city near the fairground.  Ships reported the giant bonfire was visible far out on the Waking Sea.  Smaller fires appeared throughout the countryside twinkling in the distance.  Andraste plays took place in front of the Chantry in the square where another, smaller, bonfire burned.  Actors put on secular plays near the Great Bonfire.  A favorite was the Lycanthrope Plague Story telling of how Haelia and Mather Cousland defeated the werewolves infesting Ferelden.  Another told of the Teyrn and Teyrna’s escape from the Orlesians at the Battle of White River, much to Bryce’s embarrassment.  Lys loved that story and once played her mother to the delight of the populace.

This year, however, Lys only observed.  The Broughtens had planned well.  All the familiar festivities took place; the Arl introduced nothing new.  Pippa noted that her father believed too many changes had happened during the past year; the people needed the comfort of tradition and familiar rituals, not the excitement of new ones.  Lys could not agree more.  The familiar speeches, plays and even the Chantry service let her pretend the past year had not happened, that Maric still ruled in Denerim with Loghain by his side and that all was well with her father.  She knew reality would all come rushing in on the first of August, but it was nice to live in her fantasy world for a day.

In truth, she had a many more days reprieve from reality.  On the day after Funalis, she, Kai and Pippa rode out, as they used to, along the coastal cliffs.  This time Zev joined them.  Over the next few days, they revisited familiar haunts and told stories of childhood exploits.  Lys even enjoyed retelling the tale of the wolf to Zev when they rode to Star Lake; remembering Loghain and Maric at the elephant seal beach; and recounting how she and Pippa taught Alistair and Nathaniel Howe, and later Kai, mounted archery.  Then, of course, Zev insisted on learning and they had an afternoon of shooting from horseback until Zev caught on to the new skill.  The only difference in these rides were the half dozen guards who shadowed them.  Lys recalled that as a child riding along the coast or forest edge as far as Star Lake was always safe. 

Pippa had another surprise for Lys and Kai.  Aemilia, the escaped Tevinter slave, had arrived in Higheverport after the Teyrna and Oriana left for Antiva City.  It fell to Pippa and Arlessa Alys to settle her with a family and introduce her to the weaver’s guild.  As Lys hoped, Aemilia settled with Myfanwy’s family who treated her as a long lost second daughter.  While she still had trouble believing her good fortune, Aemilia had work she loved, a new family and, much to Kai’s relief and amusement, a suitor in Nelaros.

“So, you don’t mind Nelaros courting Aemilia?”  Lys asked

“No.  I think you were right, Lys.  I would be settling if I accepted his suit.  I love traveling,” she crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared at Lys, “even if it’s with you.  I’d have to give it all up and join the guard or actually become a lady’s maid.”

Lys giggled.  “You’re very good.  I’d give you good references.”

“For which?”

“Either.  Guard or lady’s maid.”   

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“Of course I would tie you to…something to prevent your going.”  Lys suddenly looked serious.  “I don’t think I could handle another loss.  You and Mum are the two people I can say anything to and know you will listen and then tell me exactly what you think.  I don’t know what I’d do without that.”

“Well, this got serious very quickly.”  Kai squeezed Lys shoulder.  “I’m not going anywhere, my lady.  I feel the same way about you, you know.”

Lys turned to hug her.  Kai stepped back.  “No, not another hug!”

Lys smiled.  “You know Teyrn Loghain used to tease me about Cousland hugs.  And Alistair always said he’d only been hugged by Mum and me.  Hugs are important.”

“Lys, I was teasing too,”  Kai replied gently.

“I know.  So can I hug you?”

Kai pulled Lys into a hug, which was quickly returned.

“Ah, am I interrupting, ladies?”

“Just a ritual with the Couslands, Zev.  Hugs all around.”  Kai stepped back from Lys.

“So, do I get to join?”

Lys smiled, “Well, yes, but I suspect I’m not the one you want to hug.”

“Not true.  I spread my hugs equally among all lovely women,” he stopped to consider the two young women, “men too if I must be honest.”

“Ah, a man of varied tastes.  Good to know, Zev.”  Kai laughed.

“So, I think my timing has failed me.  The moment has passed.  I came to ask if you planned to ride today?”

“Kai may want to.  I have to speak with Papa.  He wants to discuss my plans.”  Lys frowned.  “I think it may be a difficult afternoon.  We leave for Denerim in a few days.  He’ll want to know if I plan to return for Satinalia or go to Cumberland for the winter.  I suspect he won’t like my answer.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

A few days later, Zev, Kai, Fergus and Lys walked down to the Castle dock from the postern.  Fergus had suggested a sail to the islands while the August weather still held.  It would provide them with privacy to talk.  A chill in the wind hinted at the winter storms soon to arrive.  The four companions dressed warmly and looked forward to a day on the water.

Lys settled at the tiller, while Fergus and Kai stepped the mast and raised the sail.  They sat Zev in the bow out of the way.  His skills did not extend to sailing.

“So, you shoot from horses, can you shoot from a small boat?”

“Well, of course, Zev.  The problem with small boats is their height.  A large ship can shoot down into a small boat, which can’t return the volleys with any success.  The archers in the larger boat will be hidden behind the rail or in the rigging.”

“Ah, I see the problem.”

The group quieted as the wind noise increased and the shallop ploughed through the mild chop to the largest of the off shore islands.  Fergus jumped out and pulled the boat onto the beach with help from Zev.  Lys and Kai tossed the food bundles to Zev and followed the men.

“It’s been a while since I was out here,” Fergus said.  “The best place for a fire is down the beach.” 

The group trudged through the sand to a spot where logs had been placed around a fire pit.  Zev and Kai went to collect wood, while Lys and Fergus started a small blaze from the nearby woodpile left by previous visitors.  On their return, Kai and Zev piled the wood they collected near the fire pit and then sat on the logs with Fergus and Lys.

“Now, Fergus, what’s this about aggressive bandits attacking the castle?  I’ve yet to get a clear answer.”

“They weren’t bandits, Lys, as I’m sure Zev will confirm.”

Zevran nodded.

“They were assassins.  Sent to kill Da and me.  Possibly all of us if we had all been there.”

“Lord Fergus is correct, _cara_.  They were assassins, but fortunately not Crows, or the outcome might have been sadly different.  You,” Zev said, looking at Fergus, “are married to a Falanni.  The Falanni’s maintain their relationships with the Crows in Antiva.  Particularly with my house, the Arainai, but with all houses.  Unlike other nobles or merchants, the Falanni have no vendettas at this time.  No Crow house would take a contract on a Falanni or a Cousland.  Only renegades or other assassins.”  Zev spoke seriously.

“How did they get in?”

“A new guard opened the postern.  Fortunately, a guard from the upper battlements saw him and raised the alarm.  Hence Harold’s reluctance to let you in when you arrived.”

“I understand.  I hope you weren’t too hard on him.”  Fergus had taken leadership of the Teynir forces while Lys was away.

‘No, I wasn’t, although I did require that all the guards become familiar with the Cousland signet.  And that they at least call for help when one is presented.”

“What else did you find out Zev?”

“Not much.  The assassins were from many countries, although perhaps it is telling that none were from Orlais.  The problem is we don’t know if that is a means to cover their tracks or that Orlais was not involved.  Nor could I find a connection to any Fereldan nobility.  I will question the two captives again, but in truth no matter how adept I am at interrogation, and I am very adept, I doubt I’ll find anything more.  I suspect they don’t know their employer.”

Fergus signed deeply.  “Which means we must remain on guard.”

“Yes, it definitely means that my lord, both here and where ever one of you travels.”

“Will you go with Lys to Denerim?”

“How can I refuse to accompany and protect two such lovely ladies, my lord?”

Kai snorted.  “We’ll see who protects whom.”

“You have not yet beaten me, Kailian.”

“Then let’s correct that now.  There’s room to spar here.”

Lys laughed.  “I think this is how they flirt,” she whispered to Fergus.  “Neither of them wants to take another step towards a relationship, so they spar and argue incessantly.”

“Do you mind if we take a walk while you spar?  Or do you need a judge?”  Fergus joked.

Kai waved Lys away.  “The elf may be an assassin, but he is honorable.  We don’t need a judge.”

Zev raised his eyebrows.  “I had no idea you trusted me so completely.  I might try to seduce you.”

“You try to seduce me every day, Zevran.  You’ve failed every time.”

“My heart” Zev whimpered grabbing his chest over his heart, “you wound my heart with you cruel words.  Now I will show you who is the better sword wielder.”

“Please go, he won’t perform if there is no audience.”

“You wound me again.  I am sincere.”

Kai rolled her eyes. 

Lys and Fergus set off laughing.

“Do you think they will get together?”

“Not yet.  They both have a history of betrayals and hurt.  I know more of Kai’s, but I suspect Zev’s story would be worse.  Quite simply, they’re afraid.”

“Shame, they seem well matched.”

“You want my companion to be joined with a Crow?”

“I suppose my view of Crows has…moderated since I met Oriana.”

“Right, because assassination becomes an honorable profession when you marry an Antivan?”

Fergus laughed.  “Something like that.  You know we get intelligence from the Falanni.  We know where Nate is and that he is fine, for example.”  He saw Lys questioning look.  “He’s with his cousins near Markham as we thought.  He doesn’t want to put Pippa in danger, however, so he stopped writing.  He’s still out of favor.  And Pippa is still not his father’s choice for a match.”

“Useful.  Fergus, why are you fondling that log?  It looks like it has arrow marks on it.”

“I didn’t realize it was still here.  This is where Alistair beat Nate at archery on that long ago day we sailed here.”  He saw Lys expression grow serious and sad.  “We don’t hear anything about Alistair.”

“He’s still at Dragon’s Peak.  Loghain saw him before he left.”  She walked over and pressed her fingers against the arrow marks.  “He enjoyed that day.  Thank you for including him.”

“It wasn’t a hardship, Lys.”

“No, but thank you anyway.”  She stared at the log.  “Silly, how a piece of wood affects me.  You know we probably wouldn’t recognize each other if he ran into me.  I certainly wouldn’t know him through the tin pot helmet he must wear.  We might not even like each other.”

“Have you given up on marriage?”

“No.  I have almost given up on a future with Alistair.  I don’t think I’ll give up entirely until I’m told he’s taken vows; or I meet him again and find I hate him.”  She saw Fergus’ raised eyebrow and grinned.  “Or he hates me.  Perhaps one day I may meet someone else.  No, I haven’t ruled it out, but I haven’t met anyone either.  It’s just not a priority.”

“You realize you could make a match, quite a good one.”

“You don’t mean-

“-no, not Thomas.  Or Rendon, now that his wife has died.  No I meant Loghain.”

“Teyrn Loghain!”  Lys looked at him in disbelief, which faded into thoughtfulness.  “Breed little Mac Tirs for Gwaren.  That would be a match wouldn’t it?  Certainly upset the nobility, if not Cailan and Anora.  ”  She laughed.  “You’ll make a good Teyrn one day, Fergus, if you keep thinking like that.  He’s not some bann from the back of beyond and at least I like him.  Should I suggest it to Papa?”

“Maker, no!”  Fergus saw her grin.  “You’re joking, right?”

“Of course.  I do like Teyrn Mac Tir, but I have no interest in marrying him.  It would be like marrying my uncle.  Now let’s go back and make sure our elven friends have not maimed or killed each other.”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

As the time for the Autumn Landsmeet approached, Lys wondered why her father made no plans to go to Denerim. 

“He’s not going, Lys.  I will go and represent Highever in his place this year.”  Fergus brushed down Sarim after their ride as he spoke.

“The reason?”

“He won’t admit it, but he doesn’t want to face one time friends who now snub him or endanger those who don’t.”

“Endanger?”

“Not physically, but hurting their chances for preferment.  Eamon has eyes everywhere it seems and Da’s tired of it all.  So I’ll go.  It seems I’m more ignored than in disfavor.  Da hopes eventually Cailan will speak to me again.”

“When do you leave?”

“In a few days.  We’ll ride hard and make it just in time for the first session.  I’ll stay at Highever House, but won’t really open it.  No receptions or salons.”

“We’ll probably pass on the road, when you return.”

“Likely little sister.”  He pulled her into a hug.  “I’m glad you came home, Lys.  He was afraid you wouldn’t.  He’s terrified he’ll lose you too.  He blames himself for you not being presented or becoming one of Anora’s ladies.”

“Now he doesn’t want me to leave.  He expects me to stay through Satinalia.  I can’t Fergus.”

“I know, Lys.  Talk to him.  Eventually he’ll listen.”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

“I have responsibilities, Papa.”  Lys spoke calmly, but intensely as she and Teyrn Bryce had their long delayed conversation about her plans for the next months.  “I can’t tell Cousin Samuel I won’t be available for the next six weeks.”  She threw up her arms to emphasize her point.

 “You have responsibilities here.”  Bryce’s right index finger pointed at her from where he stood behind his worktable.

Lys closed her eyes as she rubbed her forehead.  “What responsibilities, Father?  Mother, Aunt Alys, Pippa and Oriana more than handle any responsibilities in the Arling and Teyrnir.”

“You can help them, as you always have.”  Bryce sat down in his chair.

“Father, I helped them with childish things when I was a child.  I’m grown now and I have no place in Highever except as your unmarried daughter.  What if I had gone to Denerim to become Queen Anora’s lady-in-waiting or married and gone to live with my husband’s family.  Being in Cumberland is no different.  I never had a place in Highever as an adult.”  She stopped speaking, her shoulders slumping.  “Papa, I have no purpose here.  With House Haris I have a purpose.  One that helps Highever maintain and grow its trade.  I do serve Highever, I do my duty as a Cousland, but from Cumberland.”

Teyrn Bryce glared at his daughter.  It did not help that all she said was too true.  She had no marriage prospects in Ferelden.  She had not been presented at Court.  She would never be the Queen’s lady.  She had no place in Highever or Ferelden, except as the unmarried daughter of a Teyrn in disfavor _.  I am to blame.  I should have refused the banns’ nomination outright.  It was my foolishness that ruined her life._ Bryce could not admit this to his daughter.

“Go, just go.”  The Teyrn leaned over his worktable pulling a stack of papers toward himself.

Lys left.  Her father did not notice her tearful glance as she quietly closed the door.  They did not speak privately again before she traveled to Denerim with Cousin Samuel, Kai and Zev.

 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.  
> As I get towards the end of Book 1, I find I need to extensively revise what I now realize was a sketchy (in every sense of the word) outline and final chapters draft. I had no idea what I was doing when I began this adventure; now that I’m slightly more knowledgeable, I realize how much I need to edit and revise (and expand) the final chapters of Book 1 to make sure the ideas in my head show up in prose on the screen.  
> I will try to adhere to my weekly posting schedule, but please forgive me if I lag a few days. The story gets more complicated and the relationships more fraught as we move toward the Blight. (Duh! What fun would it be if it didn’t.) I want to do the story and my characters justice.  
> Good news: While these last chapters have been mostly about Lys ( & Kai), Loghain and Alistair will have their chapters soon.  
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her efforts. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine.  
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and those who Reviewed last week: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, nh09jrb, katdancer2 and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. It helps me keep going, knowing others enjoy Lys, Alistair, Loghain and their companions.


	39. Parasols, Politics and Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denerim, 9:26 Dragon Autumn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

 “Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 39 – PARASOLS, POLITICS, AND PURPOSE**

* * *

**9:26 Dragon, Kingsway  ===  On the North Road**

A contingent of Highever guard accompanied the Haris party to the borders of Highever.  The six troops from Hrothgar’s Wrath who had arrived on the _Green Dragon_ from Antiva, continue on to Denerim as personal guards for Lys, Kai, Samuel, and Zev.  Highever, Amaranthine, and Denerim guard patrolled the North Road well, so bandit activity was low.  A day’s journey into Amaranthine, the Denerim-bound group met Fergus’ group heading home from the Landsmeet.  The two parties made camp together for the night.

Fergus leaned his back against a tree trunk on the edge of the campsite.  Lys sat at his side, legs crossed, facing him.  They spoke in low tones while Kai and Zev made sure they were not disturbed or overhead.

“How did it go?”

“Surprisingly well, Lys.  Apparently, I’m not completely out of favor as long as Da’s not there.”

“That’s good, but sad.  Was it Papa’s idea to send you alone?

“Yes, although I agreed.  Better it came from him though.”

“Zev found out more about the Highever attacks from one of the captives.  It seems the mercenary leader came from Rivain, of all places.  Zev thinks using Rivaini led mercenaries was meant to throw us off.  Antivans would indicate the Crows and the Falanni might be able to track the source.  Orlesians could lead back to Eamon, and Tevinters to Howe.  Even Marchers might indicate Howe, with his ties to Markham.  Someone wants to thoroughly cover their tracks. 

“Zev also found that the attacks in Highever and on Loghain in Antiva might be related.  The leaders came from the same Rivaini gang.  He thinks the attack on the Haris barge, when we sailed down the Minanter, might have been Rivaini led as well.  Perhaps someone wants both of King Maric’s advisors dead.  Although with Papa in disfavor and Loghain gone, it’s hard to see why.  And why attack the Haris boats?  I’m no threat to anyone.”

Fergus scratched his chin, lips pursed.  “Someone’s playing a long game, perhaps?  They’re afraid Da will return to favor or Loghain will come back?  And you could be a hostage. It’s true though, that they didn’t seem to target me.  We fought because I led the guard against them.  It was Da they wanted.”  He laughed.  “You said in Antiva that the attackers would have let you and Kai run away.  Maybe they didn’t realize who they had?  Or information was not shared between the leaders.  Or the Haris barge attack was not related.  Maker, it’s like sailing in a spring fog.  Obstacles and dangers all around, but none are visible.  Let me talk to Oriana.  See what she and her family think.  One thing, she says Orlesians always use their own people, so I’d guess this isn’t Orlais, so perhaps not Arl Eamon.”

“Howe?”

“Rendon has been walking a fine line between advising Cailan and appearing to be a loyal vassal.  He’s done it well.  He visits Da, tells him news of Court and commiserates with him over brandy.  It might have been him who suggested I go to the Landsmeet alone.  He’s the same with Da, as always.  Surly, prickly, but ultimately appearing loyal.  I can’t see him hiring mercenaries, against Da.  He has no reason.

“What I could see is Howe deciding to make Amaranthine a free Arling with no ties to Highever.  He doesn’t need mercenaries to assassinate Da for that.  He just needs to declare himself at the Landsmeet and be acknowledged.  We know he’s considered it in the past.  The timing would be right.  If anything is odd, it’s that he hasn’t done it.” 

Lys frowned, string at her interlaced fingers, lips pursed.  “Hard to believe, Fergus, but you make sense.  Howe may be biding his time, but why?  Let’s see what Mum and Oriana think, now that they’re home.”

Her brother shrugged.  “On a different subject, I spoke with Teagan.  Actually, Teagan, Arl Leonas, Alfstanna, and I went out together to the Gnawed Noble.  Arl Wulff and Bann Sighard joined us later.  Quite a convivial evening.  Almost like old times.  Particularly when Cailan joined us.”

“Cailan sat and spoke with you?”

“He did.  As we left, he even said something about receiving Oriana and I in the spring.  He was pretty drunk by that time, so I’m not sure he’ll feel the same when sober.  If you see Anora, you might ask.”

“Of course.  That would be wonderful, Ferg.  Maybe Mum can come with you and Oriana.  She can at least stay at Highever House.”

“We’ll see.”   

Lys traveled as Layne Haris once they left the Haris compound in Higheverport.  The overland route took them to Denerim in just over a week, while sailing around the islands and peninsula that formed part of the Arling of Amaranthine could take two weeks depending on wind and weather.  Instead, the _Green Dragon_ sailed back to Cumberland.  It would return to Amaranthine in a month, where Lys and Samuel would board for their own return to Nevarra.

The new Haris-Denerim compound reflected House Haris’ desire to expand its activities in Ferelden.  Creating a large compound in Denerim could be interpreted as a shift of focus from Higheverport and the North.  While Samuel Haris did not intend to abandon Higheverport or his connection to the Couslands, the appearance that he might serve to improve the merchant banking house’s position with the Crown.  The expansion plans had been in place before King Maric’s disappearance, but no one needed to know that.  Samuel Haris took advantage of the moment.  In this moment, the king, his advisors and the nobility believed a major merchant banking house had moved its base of operations in Ferelden from Higheverport to Denerim. 

Separate from the small, existing Haris warehouse and offices on the Denerim docks, the new building on the edge of the palace district provided living quarters, studios for the employees, storerooms for samples of current merchandise, and meeting rooms.  Its location made a trip to view new goods in from Antiva, Nevarra and the Marches easy and safe for the nobility living nearby.

**9:26 Dragon, Kingsway  ===** **Royal Palace, Denerim**

“My Lady, there is no need to venture out to a merchant’s compound.  Let them bring their wares here.”  Erlina brushed Anora’s hair in preparation for braiding.  She continued to call Anora ‘My Lady’ instead of the now appropriate Your Majesty, much to King Cailan’s annoyance.  Anora tolerated it, saying Erlina’s familiarity was a comfort.

“I want to get out of the Palace, Erlina.  The House Haris compound is new and close by.  I need new dresses for Satinalia and they always have the finest fabrics.  Delilah tells me their Antivan dressmaker does beautiful work.  They can only bring a portion of their fabrics here; there I can see them all.”

“As you wish, My Lady.  I don’t understand why you must go alone.  Surely, I could be of use.  Or one of you Ladies.”

“I want a day to myself, Erlina.  I get them so rarely.  I will hardly be alone, with six guards following me everywhere.”  Her braids in place, Anora rose and walked through to her sitting room to gaze out the large casement window into the garden.  “It’s a beautiful autumn day, probably one of the last.  A ride through the city will do me good.”

Erlina followed her.  “Will it?  And who will accompany you on this ride?”

Before Anora could answer, they were interrupted by a knock on her a door followed by Cailan and Eamon entering.

“Your Majesty.  Arl Eamon.  To what do I owe this early morning meeting?”

“We wondered if you would join us to discuss the Orlesian trade agreement Eamon proposes.”  Cailan’s expression told her he needed her in this conversation. 

“Now?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Eamon replied.  “King Cailan insists on knowing your opinion.  The Orlesian Ambassador will attend us this afternoon and we must have an answer for him.”

“We must?  Since when does the Orlesian Ambassador make demands on the King of Ferelden, Eamon?”

“Well, of course he does not make demands, but courtesy dictates-“

“-nor does courtesy or the Arl of Redcliffe dictate to the King, Arl Guerrin.”

“No, of course not, Your Majesty.  It’s simply that we promised-“

“Which means _you_ promised – again Arl Guerrin, you do not promise for the King.  You may negotiate, you may propose, but the decisions are Cailan’s.  The Ambassador surely understands that.  I’m sure Empress Celene’s Chancellor does not make policy without her leave.”

Eamon sighed.  He hated it when Cailan involved the Queen.  What should have been a simple trade agreement, placing Orlesian trading outposts in several Fereldan cities had now become complicated.  He did not expect Anora to approve. 

“What does a trading outpost consist of, Eamon?”

“Merchants, Your Majesty, ready to trade Orlesian goods for Fereldan ones.  Our wool, ore, gemstones and foodstuffs for Orlesian cheeses, wines and fine clothing.”

“Why would we trade those raw goods, when we can manufacture finished items and garner greater profits?  Highever trades in cloth, not raw wool.  And they export mining expertise and ponies, along with their ore.”

Eamon bristled.  “Not to Orlais.  And not to Orlesian standards.”

Anora frowned and rubbed her upper lip with her forefinger.  “I am wearing Highever wool at the moment.  I do not find it inferior, Eamon, but I won’t argue the point.  Now, who accompanies the merchants?  They must have some protections, personal guards.”

“Of course, Your Majesty, mercenaries accompany the merchant caravans, as they do throughout Thedas.  I understand you go to House Haris today.  They arrived with six of their mercenaries, two elven servants, Samuel Haris and an assistant, Layne Haris.”

“They are Nevarran.  The mercenaries are their own, not the Nevarran government’s.  They do not bring in chevaliers.”

Eamon squeezed the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.  The queen’s aversion to Orlais would be the end of him.  “Your Majesty, the merchants do not bring chevaliers, just simple mercenaries.”

“Arl Guerrin, I would speak with His Majesty.  Will you excuse us.”

Eamon rolled his eyes, but nodded and left.

“Cailan, we discussed this.  Your idea to establish only one outpost was a good one.  Have you suggested it to Eamon?”

“No.  I thought, if we suggested it together-“

“-I can’t be there.  It makes you look weak and indecisive when you turn to me.  You must tell him what you will accept.  One outpost as we discussed at a location of Ferelden’s choosing.  I suggest it be placed in Amaranthine”

“Amaranthine?”

“That is one of the proposed locations, yes?”

“I think so.”

“It’s accessible by sea and road, close to Denerim and it will bring benefits to Howe.  Eamon and Teagan already trade with Orlais through Jader.  This will place another trading site in the east.  We can re-evaluate the proposal in a year.  If the outpost is a success, one can open in Redcliffe, which will satisfy Eamon, then a year later in Denerim and so on.  Eremon, perhaps, or  Higheverport, and perhaps South Reach may be other options in the future.  Most important Cailan, hold your ground.  Don’t let Eamon bully you.  You need to stand up to him on these decisions.”

“You’re right, of course.  I’ll remind him who is king.”  He grinned.  “You favor Nevarra.  The Ambassador will mention your visit to House Haris this afternoon, I’m sure.  Make it worthwhile.  Buy something nice, Nora – I want you to outshine everyone at the Satinalia Feast.”  He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her toward him for a kiss before he left to join Eamon. 

**9:26 Dragon, Kingsway  ===** **Haris Compound, Denerim**

“Your Majesty, welcome to House Haris.  It’s so kind of you to come to us.” 

“Ser Haris, it’s sometimes a pleasure to leave the palace complex.  A change of scene is refreshing, particularly on such a lovely day.”

Samuel led the queen to a large, airy room with fabrics stacked on shelves at one end.  “I’ve arranged for you to discuss your needs with our textile expert, Your Majesty.  I’d attend you myself, but my knowledge of fine fabrics would appall you.  Layne will serve you much better.”

“Layne?”

“Layne Haris, one of my assistants.  And a cousin.” 

Anora hid her disappointment well, but Samuel saw it flicker across her face.  As she seated herself, Samuel opened a door hidden in a wall panel letting a servant enter with refreshments.  The elf gave the queen a smirk as she set the lemon mint tea and honey cakes on the table.

“I believe you favor these treats, Your Majesty?”

“You’re-“  Anora recognized the auburn haired elven woman.

“-Kai, Your Majesty.  My lady will join you shortly.  She is gathering a few more samples to show you.  Some silk fabric just arrived from Antiva.  I’ll go help her, with your leave, Your Majesty.” 

Anora nodded. 

Kai curtsied and left.  When she returned, she carried what appeared to be long, silk covered poles.  Another young woman followed carrying a stack of silk samples in brilliant colors, which she set on the table.  She immediately turned to the queen and curtsied.

“Your Majesty, welcome to House Haris.  My name is Layne Haris, assistant to Samuel Haris.  It is our pleasure to serve you.”

Anora grinned and rose.  “Lys!”  She pulled the younger woman into a hug.  “I thought I wouldn’t see you when Ser Samuel gave me the name.”

Lys hugged Anora back.  “It’s better I not use the Cousland name, I think.”

“Sadly, I think that is true.”  Anora stepped back, still grinning.  “Maker, Lys, it is so good to see you.  I sometimes despair of seeing a truly friendly face again.” 

“I saw Loghain, Anora…Your Majesty.  In Antiva City.”

Anora’s grin disappeared and tears welled, but didn’t fall.  “How is he?” 

“Bullheaded, but otherwise fine.  He sends you his love.”

Anora almost smiled.  “Well, good to know nothing changes.”

“I should tell you we were attacked and he seemed to be the target.  We fought them off.  It seems they were Rivaini-led mercenaries.  As were the mercenaries who attacked my father in Highever.  They failed as well and two were captured.  One of our people interrogated the captives.  We think the attacks were related.”  _There’s no need to mention the Haris attack.  The tie to Rivain is less clear._

“We heard of the attack at Highever, but understood the attackers were unusually audacious bandits.”

“No, Rivaini led mercenaries – sell swords from all over Thedas.  Only the leader was Rivaini.”

“Perhaps the better question to ask about Father is where is he?”

“Sailing north from Llomerynn by now, I expect.  Mum and I tried to convince him to return.  He…I don’t know what drives him Anora.  Surely, this is not what King Maric would want, but Teyrn Loghain wouldn’t listen.  The attack convinced him he had found something relating to Maric’s disappearance.  He just didn’t know what, so of course he must continue the search.”

“So the attack’s outcome was to keep him away from Ferelden?”

“Yes. “  I…perhaps I shouldn’t have…but I gave him maps, charts and a rutter for the northern seas.  I thought he should at least know what he sailed into…or his navigator should.”

“Thank you.  I agree.”

“I told him they were a loan and I would find him and kill him myself if he didn’t return safely.”

“You did the right thing, Lys,” Anora shook her head and sniffed.  “I’m sure he appreciated it.  As do I, if it keeps him safer.”

“He did.  I didn’t.  I destroyed several practice dummies after he left.  I was so angry with him, Anora.  Still am.”

“Me too.  It’s all so hard.  Cailan…he’s so unsure of himself and tires to hide it with bluster and bravado.  He keeps saying if father cared about him and Ferelden, he would have stayed home.  He leans on Eamon, too much, but he also wants me to guide him.  It frightens me.  I even use Howe to counteract Eamon.  The more I deal with Howe, though, the less sure I am that I should.”  She sank back onto her chair, folding her hands on the table.  “Well, that was an outburst.”

“It won’t leave this room.  There are no spies here, Your Majesty, I promise.”

“I know, Lys.  I wouldn’t have let myself talk, if I didn’t already trust you.  Can we look at the fabrics?  I’d like a diversion, a fun diversion, then we will talk more.”

Lys smiled, “Of course.  I chose some colors I think will flatter you.  Don’t worry, I brought some blues, but greens, soft yellows, and golds, as well.  And a very adventurous orange!”

Anora raised an eyebrow.

“Let me get Kai.”  Lys walked to the panel door, uncovering a full-length mirror on the way.  “You’ll love this mirror,” she said over her shoulder, “It’s glass, not metal, and provides a perfect image.”

As Kai entered, Anora stood and took one of the sticks from the table. 

“Ah, that’s a parasol from Antiva.”

“It’s a stick covered in silk.”

“Not exactly.” 

Laughing, Kai took another ‘stick’ and reached under the silk to release the mechanism, which opened the parasol.  “It shades you from the sun when you go out.  More useful in the warmer north, but nice for sunny, summer days here.  The canvas ones, however, are of more use in Ferelden.  They are waxed and keep you dry in the rain.”

“I see.  The silk ones are lovely, if nothing else.  The canvas ones, useful.”

“I brought these for you.  Our gift.”

Anora’s eyes narrowed.  “And when I use them, I set the fashion and everyone flocks to House Haris to buy one?”

“Of course.  I’d ask Mum and Oriana to do that, but….”

Anora grinned.  “Done.  I like them.  Antivan fashion, not Orlesian?”

“I don’t know if they use these in Orlais.  We introduced them in Nevarra, so perhaps the fashion will spread.”

“Well, as the solitary rose…I shall set the fashion as always.”

Lys giggled at the reference.  “I always wondered if the Empress meant that comment sincerely, deserved as it is, or said it to sow division among the nobility.  Of course, I wasn’t there, but Mum told us and wasn’t sure either.”

“Oh, the latter, I am sure.  Empress Celene says nothing without intent.  She did not care for me at all.  I think I did impress her with my dress, deportment and intelligence, but I don’t for a moment think she thought any of those things were assets in a future Fereldan queen, particularly one named MacTir.  She must be thrilled Papa left.”

“Would Orlais have engineered Maric’s disappearance to draw him away?”  Lys asked.

“I’ve thought of that.  If they did engineer the disappearance, I think he’s dead.  They’ll just sow false clues for Father to follow.”

“Neither our intelligence or that of our friends indicates Orlesian involvement.  Nor do we find any other information about Maric or the Demelza.”

“Friends?”

“The Falanni.  Oriana’s family.  They have an extensive intelligence network, as does House Haris.  We can find no clues.  Nor has Teyrn Loghain found anything beyond rumored sightings of a black ship with the look of the Demelza.  He’s following those sightings.  He has a Rivaini pirate called Isabela helping him.”

“A pirate?  A Rivaini pirate!  Maker, only father….  I suppose she can make enquiries he cannot?”

“I know of her by reputation only, but yes.  Teyrn Loghain said he knew her from Denerim.  That he’d worked with her before.  And Zev…one of our interrogators, knows her and says she’s not involved with any Rivaini gangs.”

“He never told me of his spies.  Maric only wanted to know the results, not the details.  Father said I should do the same.  Then he left and I had no intelligence network.”

“Well, perhaps I can remedy that, Your Majesty.  Let me talk to some friends and see what I can develop.  We will be here for the month, so you and I can meet again, if you wish.”

“Of course I do Lys.  And please, please…it’s Anora between us.  I like to think of you as a friend.  I don’t have many…well none, really with your mother gone.  I like Philippa, but need to keep some distance there; Delilah too.  Erlina is my only confidant.”  Anora noticed Lys’ eyes narrow.  “She is not an Orlesian spy!”

“I’m sorry, Anora.  You know her better than I.  I suppose I’ve become too suspicious.”

Anora relaxed.  “Understandably so.  She came to me from Arl Howe, hardly an Orlesian sympathizer.  Nor is she privy to conversations with Cailan.  They don’t get along, but not because she’s Orlesian.  He thinks she’s too familiar with me.  She calls me My Lady, still, not Your Majesty.  He complains she’s always present, unless he orders her away.  He’s particular and private about some things.”  Anora blushed slightly as Lys smirked.  “Rather odd for someone who grew up in the fishbowl of the palace.”

“Shall we look at some of the fabrics?”  Lys changed the subject.  “Our dressmaker has your measurements, so you can pick the style you like from the drawings and then the fabric.  We can have them ready for a fitting in two weeks, if that suits.  Everything can be ready well before Satinalia.”  Lys smiled, “I particularly like this green silk, with a deep gold trim.  I have a similar color in fine wool, if you prefer, with winter coming, although heavier silk is quite warm too.  And shoes, really lovely embroidered shoes for dancing.  Too bad you’re not visiting Nevarra, we could design some wonderful masks.”

“Do you wear them in Nevarra?”

“Of course.  Half masks usually.  Here, let me show you.”  Lys went to a cabinet and pulled out several masks.  She put on a dark green almost black, silk mask with sliver swirls on the fabric and short green feathers decorating one side.  “This is an informal mask.  I’d wear it to a salon.  We wear plainer ones for everyday activities and very elaborate ones for evening.  I even have a battle mask made of chain mail and lined with silk.

 “Wearing a mask, you become more attuned to other signals.  Almost everyone has signals which show emotion, indicate a lie or reveal pleasure.”

“That’s true, although I can tell Eamon’s lying without either of us wearing a mask.”

Lys raised her eyebrows.  “Your father used to say he could tell Eamon was lying as soon as he opened his mouth to speak.”

Anora giggled.  “Exactly!”

“And Howe?”

“Rendon is more difficult.  He’s quite slippery at times, but I haven’t found him untruthful.  He sometimes withholds or omits information…tells half or partial truths, I suppose.

“He’s been away.  He returned just before the Landsmeet.  His wife died in Cloudreach.  Delilah only returned in Solace.  Arlessa Howe has been ill for many years.  Delilah says she hardly knew her, so she does not feel her loss as much as other daughters might.  The older boy, Nathaniel, did not come home for the funeral pyre, which I thought odd, but perhaps he wasn’t close either.”

“He was.  That’s why Howe wouldn’t bring him home.  I remember Juliana Howe.  She was lovely, quiet, a talented archer who taught Nate in spite of Howe’s objections, a gardener who enjoyed sharing cuttings, lore and ideas with Mum and a fine horsewoman.  They said she fell ill when pregnant with Delilah and never recovered.  She almost died when Thomas was born.  Mum was sorry to hear of her death, even though she hadn’t seen her in years.  We never visited Vigil’s Keep after she fell ill.  Howe always came to us.  Mother, attended the services in Amaranthine before she sailed for Antiva.” 

Lys served Anora more tea.  “Will Rendon announce Thomas as his heir now that she’s gone?  Or will he wait for the banishment for Denerim to expire?”

“You’re well informed.  He’ll wait I think.  Thomas is young yet and still squiring for Arl Bryland.  Nathaniel continues to disappoint his father.”

“Pah!  Nate’s one fault is trying to please his father, when it’s clear to everyone but Nate that it’s an impossible task.  He’ll be better off once Howe disinherits him and he can go his own way.”

“You dislike Howe?”

“Dislike and distrust.  Fergus too.  Papa, on the other hand, tolerates him as a vassal and companion of the Rebellion.  Mum, not so much.  She tries to avoid him when he visits.  Sorry, I’m being very blunt aren’t I.”

“It’s refreshing, Lys.  It’s nice to be just Lys and Anora.  I wish we had become friends a long time ago.  Give you mother my best.  I miss her.”

“You should have come to Highever with your father and King Maric.  You could have joined us on our adventures.  Someday, perhaps we can sneak off and visit the elephant seal beach, if you ever visit Highever again.”

Anora giggled, again.  “That would set the guard on edge.  We’ll have to do it.  And I will visit Highever again, Lys.  Cailan seems to be softening toward Fergus.  I don’t try to convince him to see your father any longer.  I’m sorry, but he resents the challenge, legal though it was, too much.  Fergus, however, was a friend and he’s coming to see he did nothing wrong.  Teagan even agrees, which is a help.  I understand Cailan joined Fergus’ group at the Gnawed Noble during the Landsmeet.  Even suggested Fergus bring Oriana in the spring.  I hope to have them join us for dinner one evening.  It would be a start, at least.”

“It would.  Fergus…manages, I don’t know what other word to use, Cailan well.”

“Fergus used the word herd.”  Anora said, straight faced.

Lys chuckled.  “He has used that word.  Gently, like a good sheep dog.”  They both laughed.

“I’ve tried to learn the skill, but don’t do it very well.  Fergus would be a huge help.”

“Teagan and Papa were good friends once.  He hasn’t helped with Eamon?”

“Teagan has supported Eamon, almost blindly, since Maric disappeared, but he’s becoming more independent now.  He and Bryland seem close of late.  Bryland, Wulff and Alfstanna Eremon form an influential group within the Landsmeet.  Teagan seems to be joining them.  I hope so.  I like Teagan.  He is Cailan’s one companion now.  Fortunately I think their outings are limited to drinking.”

“Getting Vaughan out of Denerim must have helped.”

“Yes.  You understand a lot it seems.”

“Mum says I’m sixteen going on sixty.  And Fergus always talked to me like an equal.  Well, most of the time.  I’ve heard Cailan stories since I was small.”  Lys spread out some fine woolens for Anora to consider.

“You know I missed you when you stopped coming to Highever.  I remember you reading to me and chasing butterflies in the garden.”

“You do?  You were so young.”  Anora looked through the light and heavy silks.  “I enjoyed taking care of you.  You were always so cheerful.”

“And talkative?”

“At times, but not when I read to you.  You always listened to the story and asked questions.”

“Why did you stop coming?”

“You haven’t guessed?”

“Well, yes…Fergus?”

“Yes.  I did need to spend more time in Denerim, but I didn’t have to stop visiting altogether.  I just wanted to nip any attraction in the bud.  It wouldn’t have served either of us.”

“No, you’re right.”  Lys removed the fabrics Anora had indicated she disliked.  “Perhaps I should have been that wise.”

Anora frowned.  “Completely different Lys.  King Maric wanted a match between you and Alistair.  He and your father agreed to it.”

Lys’ expression betrayed her shock.

“Didn’t you know?”

“No.  We’re betrothed?  Officially?”

“Your father, mine, Cailan and King Maric all agreed during our Summerday visit in 9:25.  I’m not sure the final papers were signed before King Maric died.  I’ve never seen them among his documents.  Father hadn’t either.  It was certainly intended.  It was to be announced just after Maric acknowledged him.”

“If wishes were horses….

“…beggars would ride.  I’m sorry, Lys.”  Anora shook her head sadly, as she stroked a sample of blue wool that matched her eyes.  “Eamon influences Cailan to keep him at Dragon’s Peak and everyone but me supports him.  Even Teagan and Howe.  They all think Cailan should wait, that his rule isn’t stable enough for the banns to accept another son of Maric at Court and that both Cailan and Alistair are safer with Alistair at Dragon’s Peak.  It’s hard to dispute the fine education and training he receives there.  I wish I could visit, but it would draw too much attention.  Eamon and Teagan just visited him.  Cailan and the Grand Cleric put them on the list, since my father left and your father can’t.  I objected, but Cailan overruled me.”

“Alistair must hate that!”

“Apparently, he’s been misbehaving.  I’m not sure of the seriousness of his misdeeds.  Eamon seems to think he’s stealing or doing other terrible things, but Teagan said it’s only boyish pranks.  Teagan said he spoke quite politely to them.  They plan to go back in the spring.”

They sorted through the fabrics Anora preferred.  That Anora selected some of the greens, golds and soft yellows in addition to her trademark blues, pleased Lys.  The orange, however, had been one step too far.  Anora had also chosen some softer styles with a high waist and loose trailing sleeves, slit from elbow to wrist to show a contrasting under tunic.  Lys also persuaded Anora to try softer, slightly more revealing necklines.  She even convinced Anora to try some of the more revealing nightwear favored by Antivans.

“Andraste’s Tears, Lys, you’ll turn me into a fashion maven.  And Cailan will love this night dress, although I think I might wait for warm weather to wear it.”

“You’re the queen.  You should set fashion trends.  Habren will be wearing soft yellow and looking horrible within a week of your first appearance at Court.  It’s not a color everyone can wear.  You’ll be lovely.”

“I wish you would be there with me.”

“Me too, Anora.  I’d enjoy being one of your ladies I think.  Even if I had to put up with Habren.”

“It’s the only reason I wish for Vaughan’s return.  They can marry and she’ll have to be Urien’s hostess, not my Lady.”

“That should bankrupt the Arling.”

“Right, then I’ll have the excuse I need to take over for the Crown and fix things.  Your Kai and all elves should feel safe, whether in the Alienage or the City.”

The dressmaker and Kai joined them to review the Queen’s selections.  Anora promised to return in two weeks for final fittings.

 “We’ll be ready in two weeks, Anora.  We’ll work on that other matter, as well.  I hope to have a plan for you.”

“I would appreciate that Lys.  I’m tired of depending on Howe for intelligence.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

After conferring with Zevran and Kai, a small group of trusted elves were selected to convey messages to Anora from the wide spread Haris and Falanni intelligence networks.  Anora’s occasional visits to the Haris compound would allow her to send messages safely.  Several elves, selected by Kailian and her cousin Shianni, either worked in palace or soon would.  Most knew secret ways in and around the complex.  They could leave messages or meet with Anora unseen or unnoticed.

When Lys met with Anora again, one stipulation she insisted upon was leaving Erlina out of the new network.

“I know you trust her, Anora, but, I’m sorry, I don’t.  We can’t put our wider network at risk.  I must insist.”

Anora regarded the serious young woman across the table from her.  “You must make a formidable negotiator, Lys.  You parents must be very proud of you.  I am just realizing how grown up you’ve become.”

“By necessity, I suppose.  I enjoy my work.”  She matched Anora’s gaze.  “Can we agree?”

“Yes.  I might use Erlina for my own purposes, but your contacts will remain secret from her.”  Anora hesitated.  “And from Cailan.”

“I wondered.”

“He enjoys shocking Eamon too much.  I’m afraid he’d wave his secret intelligence network in Eamon’s face one day.”  Anora sipped the tea that Kai had prepared.  “Do you have to leave so soon?”

“We do.  We want to be back in Cumberland before Satinalia.  There are festivities we must host and attend.” 

“There are festivities here.”

“Ones which I could not attend.”

Anora sighed and nodded as she played with her ring.  “You’re right of course.  I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too and my family.  We’ll return in the spring.  I’ll be in Highever in Wintermarch and Guardian.  I’ll try to come to Denerim as well.”

**9:26 Dragon, Harvestmere  ===  Cumberland**

Reflecting on the month in Denerim as they sailed west from Amaranthine, Samuel Haris considered the new compound and their visit a great success.  During the Landsmeet, the nobility had placed numerous orders for clothing and other items.  Once Anora appeared in the Palace gardens with her parasol, the orders for them flooded in.  More had to ordered from Antiva.  The heavier silks for winter that Anora introduced in Kingsway, also became popular as an alternative to finely woven wool, particularly in some of the new colors.  Typical Fereldan woolens in browns, greens and blues gave way to heavy silks in deep gold, soft yellow and rose with contrasting under tunics and slashed, trailing sleeves.  The Fereldan nobility would present themselves in all their finery for Satinalia.  The Feast promised to be the most fashionably dressed gathering Ferelden had ever seen.  Lys was sorry she would miss it.

Anora found the attention and new clothing quite satisfying.  Howe and Eamon Guerrin hoped her preoccupation with fashion would divert her from meddling in matters of state.  Cailan appreciated the new night dresses, which Anora wore in spite of the growing winter chill.  Her regular visits to House Haris went unremarked.  The intelligence provided by the Haris and Falanni networks slowly began to flow into Denerim.

The House Haris group arrived in Cumberland on the second day of Harvestmere after seven months of travel.  They had not stopped in Highever on their return voyage.  Teyrn Bryce would demand she remain in Highever through the Satinalia celebrations and they would argue again.  Lys wanted no part of the acrimonious atmosphere she knew she would find should she return.  Her father would not change his mind and neither would she.  There was nothing left to discuss after their final argument before she left for Denerim.   

**9:26 Dragon, Firstfall  ===  Revona City, Areth**

“Maker, too many choices, Aunt Liv.  I can’t decide between the Vienna Roast in the French press or a latte.”  Lys greeted her Aunt Liv as she joined Lys in the kitchen of her Revona City townhouse.  “And yoghurt and fresh berries.  I’m in heaven.”

“No, Lys, just Areth.”

“Right now, it is heaven, Aunt Liv.  Home is horrible.”

“Well, that’s why you’re all here.  Discussion in a neutral place.”

Lys had arrived from the Cumberland portal the night before.  Eleanor, Fergus and Bryce, staying in the Cousland town house nearby, had arrived a few days earlier from Highever.  Eleanor had suggested a family meeting away from Thedas to settle things between Lys and her father.  Her sister Olivia offered to host the meeting. 

“I know.  It’s just fallen apart so quickly in the past year.  I’ve never considered leaving Fereldan before.  As much as I love to visit here, Fereldan is home.”  She smiled as she recalled her Aunt’s description of Fereldan.  “I know nasty, dirty, backward Ferelden, but it wasn’t so for me until Maric disappeared.  It wasn’t perfect, but it was home.  Now it doesn’t feel like home anymore.  Some days I think about moving to the lake house here in Hiever[1] **[25]** village to become an artisan weaver and never hear about Thedas or Fereldan again.

“Maybe you should stay here, even if only for a while.”  Liv frowned, “but here you would have to be in school I suppose.  I forget how young you are sometimes.”

“We grow up more quickly in Thedas, I think.  We have work and responsibilities, even most nobles, from a young age.  Childhood, as it is lived here, doesn’t exist for us.  Then again, most Thedosians don’t live for one hundred years.  Of course, I go to school, but a lot of our learning involves work.  Working for House Haris in Cumberland is like being in school. 

“Until this year, I’ve only played at working there.  A month here, two months there, just enough to let me help out, but not enough to become proficient.  Now I want to become a principal one day.  Maybe even succeed Cousin Sam.  It’s a goal.  I need a purpose and a goal.  There’s nothing serious for me in Highever anymore.  I’ve tried to divide my time this past year and abide by father’s demands I be in Highever, but it doesn’t work.  I spend half my time on a ship.  Papa just won’t accept I have no place in Highever.”

“Well, I hope we can convince your father to let you live in Nevarra.  Maybe even convince them to go with you.  I don’t like the sounds of this disfavor, even if you still have a voice at the Landsmeet.”

“Nor do I.” said a decidedly masculine voice.

Lys and Liv turned as Samuel Haris came into the kitchen.  He kissed Lys on the cheek and put his arm around Liv.  They had become close again after his wife’s death, but Liv continued to refuse to move to Thedas.  They made do with Samuel’s occasional visits to Revona.

“I heard part of that Lys.  Your Mum and Fergus both agree, although I know they haven’t said so to you.  They’ll help convince Bryce.  We’ll assign you to work with him on the mining project.  It will be good for both of you.”

Lys bit her lip, “I have to get through today first.  I hope I’m as persuasive as you say I am, Cousin.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The group sat in Liv’s comfortable family room.  Although Olivia’s town house was in the city, the view through the glass doors looked across a wide deck to a small yard.  A huge elm tree shaded yard and deck, although it was quickly losing its leaves to the approaching winter chill.

“Father, if I were to agree with you and stay at Castle Cousland, what would I do?”  Lys sipped her latte waiting for her father’s answer.

Bryce Cousland looked puzzled.  “What you’ve always done.”

“I’m looking for a more specific answer, Father.  I’m almost seventeen.  Surely you don’t think I’ll be playing with toys?”

Bryce scowled, “Of course not Lys, you’ll take on the responsibilities of a young noble woman.”

“And what are those?”  Lys asked gently.

“Isn’t that obvious Lys?  You can still work with House Haris in Higheverport.  You will help you mother and Oriana as you always have.”

“No, Papa it is not obvious to me.  Young women my age leave home to take on their responsibilities.  I won’t be presented at Court.  I will not be a Lady-in-Waiting to Queen Anora.  No one’s son will court me, not that I’d want any of them, but I have no marriage prospects.  Mum, Arlessa Alys, Oriana and Philippa represent the Arling and the Teyrnir with the Guilds and the merchants.  They don’t need me to help them.  So, again, what would you have me do?”

“Nonsense, you can help your Mother as you always have.  You would still train.  You would ride.  You can help Nyla with her potions.  I would even agree to allow you to work with the guard.  Perhaps lead patrols.  Eventually, you will be presented.  You do have suitors.”

“Father, I’m not a child.  I’m not twelve and looking for adventures.  I have no purpose in Highever, nor was I ever meant to.  I’m the daughter.  Traditionally, daughters marry and move away.”  His daughter, tall and elegant in a simple linen top and slacks, wore a silver chain from which hung a silver laurel pendant.  She sat before him arguing her case quietly and calmly.  A House Haris signet ring, her personal Cousland signet and a pretty engraved silver band, which she occasionally twisted, graced her slender fingers.  “As for being presented…it’s an unknown.  And I know of no suitors.”  She crossed her arms, “Unless you mean Thomas Howe?  Tell me you don’t mean Thomas Howe.  I won’t be a pawn, Father.”   _Or did you mean Alistair, as unlikely as that is now._

Bryce frowned, anger showing as he clenched his fist on the arm of the couch where he sat next to the Teyrna.  Eleanor laid her hand on his arm.  “You suggest I see you as a pawn?  I never dictated whom-

“-I know, Father.  I am not suggesting you planned to marry me off, I’m asking what you meant.  I’m suggesting that I go away and find a place and a purpose with House Haris and worry about marrying later.”  She drew a deep breath, uncrossing her arms, before continuing, “I see my future proceeding in one of two ways.”  Lys spoke firmly, hoping her voice did not show her nervousness.  She caught herself twisting the laurel ring and stopped.  “Either I accept Cousin Samuel’s proposal that I work for House Haris in Cumberland, which is my preference, or I return to Areth, permanently.  I would like your blessing, but I can proceed without it.”

“You're presenting me with an ultimatum?”  Her father replied, astonished.

“Only if you choose to see it as such, Father.  What I am doing is making my own path.  I realize it’s a very Arethian thing to do, but then sometimes Arethian ways are better.  Yes, your peers will consider it unconventional, but I won't be in Ferelden to embarrass you, I'll be in Nevarra.  Or here.  It’s not as if suitors beat the path to our door, despite what you say.  The only Fereldan aspirant seems to be Thomas Howe and I can assure you I will never marry that…” she struggled to find a polite word, “…creature.”

Eleanor had to turn away, stifling a smile of pride.  She admired her daughter's strength and, more importantly, understood her choices.  The world changed after Maric’s death.  Lys had no standing, no place at Court or in society.  Alistair was lost to her for now.  She could serve Highever and Ferelden better from Nevarra.  _Access to the Haris intelligence network will be invaluable._   Eleanor understood that Lys wanted to move on. 

_What,_ she wondered, _would I have done if Bryce had died and my Papa had insisted I marry someone else after the Rebellion?  I would have refused.  I would have become Bann of Long’s Reach on my own, as Alfstanna Eremon is Bann of Waking Sea today._   She returned her attention to Bryce and Lys.

“You think you can support yourself?”

“Of course I can.  I am blessed with too many options outside of Highever, not too few.  Cousin Samuel invited me to apprentice with him years ago.  I complied with your desire that it be informal and only for part of the year, so that I could meet my obligations in Ferelden.  Now there are no obligations in Ferelden.  You, mother, Fergus and Oriana belong in Highever, along with the Arl, Arlessa and Pippa, who is the heir to the Arling.

“If I’m to continue with House Haris, I need to dedicate myself to working there.  I need to train full time as a merchant and banker.  The best way for me to serve Highever and Ferelden is from Cumberland.  I can become the expert on Fereldan trade.  Create investments that promote Ferelden prosperity.  Father, you know this.”

Bryce winced at her continued use of ‘Father’.  She only called him that when she was angry or upset.

“Cousin Samuel offered me a principle position with House Haris if I can prove myself.  I’m not a child any longer, Father.  I want to take on these responsibilities.   

“And, If I fail, I can always join the Wrath.  Commander Aleksi has said he will have me.  Or I’ll return to Areth, where I can continue my studies.  Fortunately, Aunt Liv is Mum's sister, not yours.  I'm sure I can stay with her until I get settled.”

Bryce winced at that gibe as he rubbed his hand across the back of his neck.  "Lys, don't you feel any loyalty to Highever?”

_Oh Bryce,_ Eleanor thought, _not the right tack to take with her._

Lys’ hands clenched into fists as anger flashed across her face.  Her voice rose as she spoke.  "Of course I do, but I will not rule there, Fergus will.  I will one day serve as Bann of Long’s Reach and I will pledge to him when that time comes, but that is far in the future.  Mum is the bann now and her seneschal serves her well.  In  Nevarra, at House Haris, I will be the Ferelden expert.  House Haris will expand its relationship with Highever and Denerim and move into other regions of Ferelden.  As a merchant banker, we can exert influence and bring prosperity.  Everything I do will serve Highever and Fereldan.  I am a Cousland.  I will do my duty, but my duty as I see it.  I won’t live in Castle Cousland and serve no useful purpose.”

Lys took a breath and lowered her voice.  “Papa, we can work together on the mining project.  I’ll still visit, just as you all will continue to visit Nevarra.  I’m not leaving forever, just serving from a different place.”

“Bryce,” Eleanor began.

"Eleanor, don't.  I know you agree with her.  I'd rather have my discussion with you in private."  He stood and began to pace, "I suspect by the end of the day I'll approve, since your Mother seems to think you're doing the right thing."  He glanced at Fergus.  “And your brother.  Apparently, I’m alone in my disapproval.”

Eleanor considered how her impetuous, passionate daughter had changed over the years.  Still curious, analytical and intelligent, Lys exhibited a self-discipline which made her a good diplomat and negotiator, but tamped down any spontaneous emotional display.  Once quick to anger and quicker to laugh, Lys now displayed a calm, reserved composure appropriate to the merchant and banking circles in which she moved.  As proud as she was of her lovely, talented daughter, Eleanor missed the volatile, impulsively affectionate, sometimes rowdy, unkempt little girl she had been.  

Bryce sat down again, but at the table.  He put his head in his hands.  Finally he looked up, "Is this about the boy?  Alistair?”

“Alistair?  No.  What would he have to do with this?  Do you think, if Cailan acknowledges Alistair, he will marry Alistair to a Cousland?  More likely Delilah Howe or some bann’s daughter, I would think.  This is not about Alistair Theirin.  This is about me having a purpose for my life.  I simply won’t marry some bann from the back of beyond to be his brood mare.  I suppose that’s very Arethian too.  So be it.  I’ll just stay here if my attitudes won’t suit Thedas.

“Father, I do not rule out marriage forever, but I will insist on marrying a man I like and respect.”  She twisted the napkin in her hand.  “Father, I know I disappoint you.  I’m not the daughter you wanted.  I do understand that, but I must succeed at being me, not fail at being some perfect daughter you imagine I should be.  Marriage is simply not important to me right now.  I realize you want me wed and happy.  Unfortunately, for me, wed and happy do not go together, at least at the moment.”

“Lys, you never disappoint me.  Why…what would make you say that?  I want you to be happy.  I did not choose this…disfavor, although I caused it by my failure to react.  I should have refused immediately, not let the vote even occur.  It’s me who has disappointed you.”

Lys bit her lip, “I…you always disagree with my choices, Papa.  Always.”

“I question them Lys, but have I ever stopped you?”

“No.  No, you haven’t.  Limited me, perhaps.  I’d like the limits lifted.”

Bryce grinned, ruefully, glancing at Eleanor.  “You Mum’s advice has tempered some of my views.  She’s usually right, so she probably is in this as well.  You’ve proven yourself repeatedly.  I’m proud of you Lys.  I suppose I’m afraid to lose you.  I have trouble remembering you’re growing up.”  His face brightened for a moment, as a compromise occurred to him. 

"Suppose we agree to this,” he asked and ticked off the options on his fingers as he spoke.  “You may go to Nevarra for three years to work with Samuel; return for a month of your choosing each year.  Meet eligible young men both here and in Nevarra during that time, understanding that no betrothal will occur without your agreement."  Bryce turned to Samuel.  “Is that agreeable to you?  Can you allow her to come home?”

“Of course, Bryce.  I don’t intend for her to exile herself, just to focus on learning what she needs to learn.”

Eleanor heaved a sigh of relief as her husband’s good sense reasserted itself.  His diplomatic skills did not always win over his emotions when in conflict with Lys.   

"I'll agree now if you will, Papa.  I can return easily at least once a year.  I’d like to discuss what you believe eligible to mean, but we can postpone that for now.  I want it defined before I meet any of these candidates.  And know it excludes anyone named Howe." 

Bryce sighed, “Obviously, Samuel and I have taught you too well.  Fine.  Agreed.  We’ll make a list of eligibility standards.”

Lys smiled, then hesitated before she spoke.  “There is one other condition.  I will join House Haris as junior member under the name Layne Haris.”

“What!  Why?”

“I can work better with a name no one in Ferelden knows.  It’s likely I will deal with nobility in my role with the House, but it will be better if I’m not recognized.  As a Nevarran, I can even go around Denerim masked, if necessary.  It avoids complications.”  _He doesn’t need to know I’ve been using that name for over a year.  At least it’s out in the open now._

“So, being a Cousland is a complication?”

“Yes.  For now, it is.”

Bryce turned to glare at Samuel.

“No, Father, Cousin Samuel did not ask me to do this.  This was my idea.”

“Although, I admit, Bryce, I think it’s a good one.”  Samuel added.

Bryce templed his fingers and leaned his head against them.  Lys feared she had just undone the agreement.  Then he laughed, ruefully, with some bitterness.  “Done.  I agree.  No wonder Samuel wants you in the business.”

“She walked behind his chair and hugged him.  Laying her chin on the top of his head, she said,   “I'm not running away from you and Highever, Papa.  I'm running toward a future for myself.”

“I know, Lys.  I just wish it was the future you dreamed about, the one I,” he glanced at Eleanor, “your mum and I,” he amended, “wanted for you, not the one you have.”

* * *

25 pronounced Heever and yes named by Couslands to honor their Thedosian home;  Hiever is a village on a lake in the mountains a day’s travel from Revona where the Couslands and Burkes have a holiday camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques. 
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her efforts. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and those who Reviewed last week: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, nh09jrb, katdancer2 and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. It helps me keep going, knowing others enjoy Lys, Alistair, Loghain and their companions.


	40. The Long Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eamon and Rendon reminisce during 9:27 Guardian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

 “Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 40 – THE LONG PLANS**

* * *

**9:27 Dragon  Guardian  ===  The Chancellor’s Study, Royal Palace, Denerim**

Arl Eamon Guerrin settled into the large chair before the fire in the Chancellor’s Study.  His feet rested on a padded footstool.  His hands rested on padded wooden arms.  His thickening torso leaned against a padded backrest.  His bottom rested on a padded seat.  A large worktable, with another comfortable chair behind it, stood before the large window.  The Arl of Redcliffe gave a self-satisfied sigh as he sipped some fine Orlesian cognac from his wife’s family vineyard near Val Chevin.  Today Eamon Guerrin achieved a major victory in his march to power.  Today Arl Eamon became the Chancellor of Ferelden.  

King Cailan announced Arl Eamon’s elevation to Chancellor at the first session of the Little Landsmeet.  Adding a second Landsmeet after Wintersend had been one of King Maric’s ideas.  Gathering the nobles twice a year improved communication, but more importantly, increased the Crown’s control.  Disputes in the Bannorn did not fester over the summer.  Crown operatives could nip simmering plots in the bud.  Ferelden was better for the biannual gatherings.

With his official status confirmed, Chancellor Guerrin now had the power to push his plans forward.  Arl Eamon stretched his legs, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. 

 _As Chancellor, I can negotiate with Orlais.  I will bring about the unification of the two nations peacefully, through marriage, accomplishing what my father and Rowan failed to achieve.  What they did not even try to achieve,_ he corrected himself. _Rowan wouldn’t have seen it this way.  They all complained of Orlesian atrocities, but what did they expect when they rebelled?  Certainly, the Rebels committed their own harsh acts.  Nobles murdered at Loghain and Maric’s hands, among others._ Eamon shifted in his seat recalling Loghain’s heated response when Eamon suggested atrocities had been committed by both sides.

 _After River Dane, Rowan and Maric should have negotiated with Orlais.  Made Maric king ruling Ferelden as a vassal of Orlais_.  _Would bending knee to Emperor Florian have been so hard?_  

Eamon admitted that placing the fool Meghren on the throne had been a mis-step.  Celene had conceded as much on her visit to Ferelden.  

_An Orlesian alliance, with Ferelden a vassal state, would have been the best for both countries.  Maric could have cemented the alliance by betrothing Cailan to Celene when she became Empress.  After all, Maric had a spare Theirin to rule in Ferelden.  I would have happily guided Alistair, just as I now guide Cailan._

_Instead, Father and Rowan gave up their Arling and sent me to molder with relatives in a Free Marcher keep near Wildervale, while they grabbed power and prestige.  Now both were dead, along with their Theirin king.  My Theirin boy listens to what I say.  Only a few challenges remain before I make Cailan Theirin Emperor of an Orlais that includes Ferelden._   _Then I will have the ear of both King and Emperor._   _The possibilities for my son and me will be unlimited._

It had taken twenty-five years, but the end was in sight.  He would keep the Theirin line on the Ferelden throne, but as a vassal state to Orlais.  It would not happen immediately.  Anora still stood in the way, but it would work out.  It had always been a long plan. 

A long plan, a mountain he had to climb steadily, patiently, carefully to ensure he did not trip or fall.  From the time in 9:03 Dragon, when his sister allowed him to return from what he saw as his Marcher exile, the plan had stretched out before him, always beckoning, always whispering _you can be more._   He returned at nineteen from the Free Marcher stronghold where he and his brother had been held since the Rebel Queen convinced his father to abandon Redcliffe when Eamon was a toddler.  Teagan had been born on the road, his mother dying soon after.  Teagan had joined him in Wildervale when only a babe.  His sister gained his father’s favor, fought in the Rebellion and ultimately married the new Fereldan king, while he sparred with practice dummies, learned Orlesian and studied the political machinations of his hosts and their allies.  His sister was queen.  When he returned to Ferelden, he was nothing.

 _Eamon_ , Rowan had said, _I know you wanted to join us, but you were too young.  We couldn’t risk you.  Now, however, there is a battle you can fight; you can recover Castle Redcliffe and the Arling from its Orlesian usurper.  Redcliffe is yours, it’s ripe for the picking, but you need to secure it._

Teagan stayed in Denerim at the newly formed Court, where, at twelve, he became a page.  Teagan felt no resentment for what Eamon considered their forced exile.  Eamon gathered the few forces Rowan, _Queen Rowan,_ provided and marched off to recover his patrimony.  Redcliffe would be his.  He would bide his time and build his power.  One day, he, not _Queen Rowan_ , would be the most powerful person in Ferelden.

Eamon Guerrin, the eldest son and second child of Rendorn Guerrin, Arl of Redcliffe, succeeded in recovering Castle Redcliffe from the Orlesian Chevalier who had occupied it upon Arl Rendorn’s departure nearly twenty years before.  It had not been difficult, despite his few troops.  Once Maric defeated Meghren, the Orlesian nobles and Chevaliers began a steady flight back to Orlais.  While King Maric and Queen Rowan remained in Denerim to establish the new government, their common born general, now Teyrn of Gwaren, Loghain Mac Tir, raged through Ferelden clearing out Orlesians and Orlesian sympathizers where ever he found them. 

Convincing the Malvoix couple, erstwhile Arl and Arlessa of Redcliffe, to join the flight had required no fighting, only negotiations.  Eamon secured the countryside, now devoid of Orlesian troops, and gathered more troops from the town and surrounding farmholds.  The people of Redcliffe welcomed Arl Rendorn’s son.  He set up camp on the tourney grounds and sent a messenger to the castle under a flag of truce.  _Leave now and you may travel home to Orlais under safe passage, guaranteed by the Queen of Ferelden’s brother, the true Arl of Redcliffe.  Stay and I will win a siege, as I hold the countryside._ Eamon knew from Fereldan servants who had fled the castle, that the food supplies were low. The well might provide plentiful water, but the Arl, his wife, his daughter and their few retainers would be starving in six months. 

Eamon understood the Orlesian Arl had been fair to his Fereldan subjects as the war moved north and east.  Stories of Orlesian atrocities were less common here.  Fewer lands had been given over to Chevaliers and nobles.  He saw no reason not to treat with the Orlesian usurper.  Unlike his sister, her king, and that common bastard, Mac Tir, Eamon preferred talk and intrigue to battle. 

Guy Malvoix, not desiring a long siege, which he understood he would lose, asked to meet with the young Fereldan lord to discuss the terms in detail.  Eamon set up a tent at the southern end of the great bridge that joined the castle to the mainland.  There, Eamon and his retinue met with Guy Malvoix, his few remaining retainers, his wife Camilla and, tagging along after her mother, their attractive fifteen-year-old daughter Isolde.

Isolde was a pretty girl, just blossoming into young womanhood; Eamon was a presentable young man, with good Marcher manners, who spoke Orlesian.  During the discussions, Isolde found herself drawn to the young Fereldan nobleman who happened to be the Queen’s brother.  She often sat with him during breaks in the talks or while taking meals.  This did not go unnoticed by her mother.  Camilla Malvoix was an ambitious woman who played the Game.  

The status of the Malvoix, upon returning to Orlais, would decline to that of petty nobility unless they could perform some service to the Emperor before leaving.  The Malvoix secured their safe passage and something more.  They agreed upon a secret betrothal between Isolde and Eamon, a secret that they would reveal to Emperor.  The Malvoix would return to Orlais taking Isolde with them.  Isolde would protest, demanding to stay with her beloved Eamon.  In a year, to maintain the fiction that her parent’s disapproved of the alliance with Eamon, she would run away to join her true love and the country she considered her home.

Once in Redcliffe she would find her confessor, Sister Eleutheria.  Isolde could stay at the Chantry convent near Redcliffe where she would profess her everlasting love for Eamon and for his homeland.  Sister Eleutheria, a real sister, but also a bard, had already established herself in the convent, vowing she could serve Andraste in Redcliffe as well as in Montsimmard.  She would guide the young Orlesian girl, keeping her and her betrothed to the plan.

The Malvoix would find rewards from Emperor in Orlais.  He would provide an elegant townhouse in Val Royeaux and a small estate to the east towards Val Chevin.  They would also retain their own small family holding, little more than a large farmhold, near Montsimmard.  Eamon, with Isolde’s guidance, would become the means by which Ferelden returned to its rightful place as a province of Orlais without costing any more in blood or treasure.  Through the Emperor, Eamon could become the most powerful man in Ferelden, exceeding his sister’s power or that of King Maric or his common born upstart, Teyrn Loghain. If all went well, he and certainly his children would gain position in Orlais as well.  It was a long plan and much would change before it could come to fruition.

The first obstacle occurred when Isolde returned, at sixteen, to find her beloved.  Eamon courted Isolde for two years under Eleutheria and the Chantry’s watchful eye before proposing.  Eamon, however, had made a huge miscalculation.  He never considered his sister and her king would object to his marrying the daughter of the Orlesian usurper of Redcliffe, but object they did.  By this time, in 9:06 Dragon, Queen Rowan had borne a son and was ill herself with a wasting sickness.  By 9:08 Dragon, his sister was dead.  King Maric refused to see him for months, and then denied his request again, supported by the commoner Teyrn.  In 9:10 Dragon, King Maric disappeared for several months and returned even less inclined to agree to Eamon’s request to marry.

Eamon shifted in his seat, his reminiscence interrupted by an elven servant carrying wood for the fire.  The fire refreshed and his cognac glass refilled, Eamon recalled the king on his secretive visit to Redcliffe a year after Maric’s short disappearance.  By this time his brother Teagan, at nineteen, was a squire to Arl Leonas Bryland and slated for knighthood and a bann on the western shores of Lake Calenhad at Rainesfere.  Eamon, at twenty-six, had established himself as Arl.  Isolde, at twenty-two despaired of ever marrying Eamon.  She feared Eleutheria’s master would send her back to Orlais in disgrace and find another way to bring Ferelden into the Orlesian fold.

King Maric arrived attended only by Teagan, a dark-haired young man called Duncan and a few servants and guards.  He claimed, at first, that he needed a break from Court and decided he would visit his brother-in-law and see how Redcliffe fared.  In fact, he came with a request.

King Maric asked Eamon to foster a child, his bastard son, but not reveal the child’s parentage.  Only Eamon and Teagan were to know the child’s father.  Maric refused to name the mother.  Eamon jumped at the chance, seeing advantage and opportunity in the royal bastard.  If he did this, perhaps the king would approve his marriage.  At some point, he would reveal the child to Orlais where he was sure he would gain leverage. 

Approval to marry did not happen immediately.  When it did, the child was not mentioned.  Perhaps Maric simply tired of Eamon’s persistence.  In 9:14 Dragon, the king finally gave Eamon permission to marry Isolde Malvoix.  Eamon was thirty and Isolde twenty-six.  Arriving at Castle Redcliffe, Isolde found a four-year-old bastard living in the castle attended by a nurse. 

Although Eamon assured her he was merely fostering the child, she assumed he was Eamon’s.  After years of waiting, the thought that Eamon had made free with serving girls while she hid in a nearby convent made her furious.  With no objections from Eamon, she took it out on the boy.  First, she dismissed the nurse and moved the child to the servants’ quarters with kitchen duties, then to the dog kennels, and finally to the stables.  Perhaps the Maker responded in kind.  It was five long years before she quickened with child.  It was, afterall, a long plan.

Eventually, after the King and Fereldan’s two Teyrns took an interest in him, Isolde and her bard, Sister Eleutheria, discovered the identity of the bastard boy’s father.  Fortunately, for them both, putting the boy in the Chantry mitigated the Orlesians’ anger at his removal from Redcliffe.  It would not be as simple, but the Orlesians could still control him. 

Orlesian control of the Chantry had increased as the Divine Beatrix aged, slipping into senility.  At the Empress’ request, the Divine would order the Grand Cleric in Denerim to send the boy to Val Royeaux when the time was right.  In the meantime, a good education in a fine Chantry school and training as a templar could do him no harm.  One day he would be married to a cousin of Empress Celene, who had taken power in 9:20 Dragon.  The bastard Theirin would produce little Orlesian Theirins and provide ample Orlesian trained heirs for the throne of the Fereldan vassal state. 

 _Perhaps,_ Eamon mused, _with Cailan married to the Empress, Alistair himself could be put on the Fereldan throne.  He should be biddable enough.  I will rule through him as the Emperor and Empress’ representative._

First, of course, King Maric must die, but not yet.  His son Cailan was still young, only fifteen, and not ready to become King.  Unlike he sixteen-year-old Orlesian Empress, he had not been raised to play the Game or, like his father, fight in the Rebellion.  Immature and unsure of himself, Cailan tried to present a brave front, which impressed others as bluster and bravado.  Eamon encouraged Teagan to befriend his nephew and encourage his drinking.    

The Orlesian plan required a stable Ferelden nobility, willing to do the king’s bidding in their strange gathering called the Landsmeet.  A gathering in which Eamon Guerrin, Arl of Redcliffe held significant power.  Unfortunately other nobles, notably Teyrn Bryce Cousland, his vassal Arl Rendon Howe and the upstart Teyrn of Gwaren, Loghain Mac Tir, held significant powers too.  The two Teyrns were the king’s close advisors.  Worse, Anora Mac Tir was Crown Prince Cailan’s betrothed.  While Cailan might be immature, the future queen was not.  Empress Celene had noted Anora’s abilities in her visit to Denerim in 9:20 Dragon.  The visit affirmed the peace between the two nations.  Celene hoped, through her visit, to calm the fears and suspicions of even the Teyrn of Gwaren.  Calling his daughter ‘a solitary rose among the brambles’ could not hurt that effort.  Isolde had smiled to herself at Celene’s clever remark.

Eamon and Isolde consolidated their power and influence over the next five years.  Isolde’s imperious attitude did not endear her to the nobility, but Eamon’s calm, dispassionate speeches in the Landsmeet and conservative views did gather adherents.  He advocated careful, thoughtful expansion of trade and relations with Orlais, a stance with which King Maric agreed, much to Teyrn Loghain’s disgust.  Unlike his advisors, King Maric was open to any trade, which built Ferelden’s wealth and influence.  Even Bryce Cousland eschewed trade with Orlais and Tevinter.  Support for Tevinter connections came from Arl Rendon Howe, whose mother and wife came from Perivantium.  Through the years, Eamon carefully cultivated allies, allowed Teagan to find his own path, even if it included following Teyrn Cousland’s lead, befriended Cailan through Teagan, and attempted to repair his strained relations with King Maric.

Eamon’s relations with King Maric, never close, deteriorated further due to Isolde’s treatment of the king’s bastard.  Isolde’s punishments of the boy, Alistair, were noticed by the Cousland’s brat, who had befriended him.  Isolde punished the boy, rightfully Eamon thought, as he neglected his duties and spent his time with the noble daughter of a Teyrn.  In truth the boy had always been a miscreant.  Had he been more biddable he might have retained his place in the servants’ quarters and not been sent to the kennels.  Eamon had always approved of Isolde’s actions, until they came to the attention of the king. 

Loghain, Maric and Bryce Cousland took the boy’s side much to Eamon’s discomfiture.  For two long years, the Teyrns managed the boy’s time while he remained at Redcliffe.  Finally, Maric removed the boy to Dragon’s Peak, but never forgave Eamon and Isolde for what he perceived as poor treatment of his bastard son.

Further complicating his relations with the Crown and some nobles, the two Teyrns and Arl Bryland among them, was Eamon’s denial of the Orlesian’s treatment of Fereldan’s during the Occupation.  Killing Queen Moira was a sad, but natural result of her rebellion, Eamon believed.  The same was true of any harsh treatment by nobles and Chevaliers.  When the commoners rebelled, they must be put down.  King Maric and Queen Rowan had excused Eamon’s attitude, attributing it to his Marcher upbringing far away from the evidence of Orlesian atrocities.  Maric found the apologist views harder to accept as time went on.  Loghain offered Eamon no benefit of the doubt; he distrusted and disliked the man.   

Eamon’s poor relations with the Crown resolved itself one day in Solace, 9:25 Dragon, when the Demelza, the Fereldan Navy flagship carrying King Maric and a delegation to Wycombe never arrived.  King Maric disappeared.  Fereldan, after some time passed, declared him dead and his son, Crown Prince Cailan, King.  Eamon stepped up to advise his nephew and ensure no others would usurp his place by the new king’s side.  

Removing Teyrn Bryce Cousland from influence would be his first accomplishment.  A word here, a favor called in there and a group of banns proposed Bryce Cousland to succeed Maric.  Somewhere along the way, Bann Esmerelle of Amaranthine offered her support and that of her adherents.  Eamon accepted, wondering if Arl Rendon Howe had put Esmerelle up to this or if she acted on her own.  The resulting vote, although too close for comfort, made Cailan king and sent Bryce Cousland from Denerim in disfavor.  Playing to Cailan’s insecurities proved easy.

The next problem solved itself when Teyrn Loghain sailed off to search for King Maric.  Eamon scoffed.  _Fool!  He abandons his daughter and his king to search for a dead man._

Isolde had laughed.  _Anora will try to control Cailan, but will fail.  Erlina’s tea will insure she does not conceive.  If she should, another tea will make short work of the pregnancy.  Don’t worry husband, Anora will be set aside soon enough.  The bannorn will want an heir, not a rose._

 _One cannot rush a long plan.  So,_ Eamon thought, as he sipped the fine cognac in his new study next to the King’s.   _I control Cailan, the Queen is effectively barren and the two Teyrns are gone.  Only two concerns remain:  the boy, Alistair and Arl Howe.  And of course, Loghain, should he return, but I’ll worry about that if he does._ _Perhaps the titles of General of the Army and Advisor to the King would do.  Even better if we can persuade him to return to Gwaren.  He can peruse his maps, strategize, and even continue to train Cailan.  I’ll keep Maric’s Shield and the guard in friendlier hands.  If he insists on campaigning, he can die in battle as easily as next man.  Without Maric, the man, despite his title, is a commoner with no political sense._

Alistair, of course, was not really a concern.  The Chantry controlled him.  Eamon could visit him now.  He would ensure Alistair’s behavior improved by whatever means necessary.  Better yet, assign him away from that nobles’ playground at Dragon’s Peak.  A stint, as an initiate, in the Tower of the Circle of Magi and some firm templar discipline, clearly lacking at Dragon’s Peak, would do him good.  His reputed Theirin charm would not work with seasoned templars. 

Eamon’s Orlesian allies agreed that Alistair would not take the final vows of a full templar.  Instead, he would become a common templar, taking minor vows, which will allow him to marry and even leave the order.  Once in Orlais, Alistair would be free to marry and breed.  Eamon felt sure the Orlesians and the Chantry could come to terms on Alistair’s status and duties.

Arl Howe was a conundrum.  A vassal of Teyrn Bryce Cousland, he acted independently, but never quite crossed the line of disloyalty to the Teyrn of Highever.  Of course, Howe could change his allegiance under Fereldan law, but he had never done so.  His foreign ties were with Tevinter and Markham in the Free Marches.  He traded with Tevinter, but always complained that the Couslands favored Higheverport over Denerim through their ties with House Haris in Nevarra.  House Haris, however, had just opened a large compound in Denerim, which put the lie to that allegation.  Even Isolde had been impressed with the selection of fine fabrics and the dressmaking skills of its employees.  It seemed the Nevarran merchant banking House would make Denerim its Fereldan focus now.

 _Then there were all the magisters.  Well, three or four, but why even that many?  They hadn’t saved his wife._   Also troubling, his daughter was one of the Queen’s ladies, which gave him almost as much information as Erlina provided to Isolde.  Eamon chuckled.  Anora’s maid spoke often with a sister in the Chantry, who then reported to Eleutheria.  _A very pious girl, that Erlina_. 

No, Howe warranted watching.  Eleutheria had provided just the person to do it.  Another bard who would pander to the Arl of Amaranthine’s baser interests.  Marjolaine could teach a whore mistress new tricks.  Howe would enjoy her and she would find out his secrets.

Eamon gave a self-satisfied sigh.  Of course there would be further complications, there always were.  He would deal with them as he always had.  _Plans were useless, planning invaluable.  Especially long plans._  

**9:27 Dragon  Guardian  ===  The Arl’s Study, Amaranthine House, Denerim**

Arl Rendon Howe smiled as he seated himself behind his fine Tevinter mahogany worktable.  He sipped from a glass of Tevinter Vyrantian wine.  Made from grapes picked after a light frost and aged for a decade or more, the wine, from vineyards around, Vyrantium, was sweet, amber colored and high in alcohol content. 

 _Life is good._   While he wished his plans would move more quickly, Rendon Howe was nothing if not patient.  _Let Eamon preen before the Landsmeet.  I have no need of the attention._ He had long plans too.  Plans, which did not include Eamon. 

After offering some token resistance to Eamon Guerrin’s candidacy, Howe had gracefully acquiesced to Guerrin’s elevation to the post of Chancellor.  Eamon could play his games from that position.  Rendon Howe preferred a more subtle approach.  His status as a vassal of Highever required it, in fact.  Until he was ready to withdraw his allegiance to the Couslands and demand his Arling be accountable only to the Crown, he could not show open disloyalty to Highever. 

Tevinter was Howe’s ally.  Tevinter desired to block Orlesian expansion, gain access to Fereldan’s mineral wealth, and find a reliable source of slaves, elven and human.  The Couslands had rebuffed all Tevinter overtures, so the empire had turned to the other northern lord with a fine harbor, Arl Howe of Amaranthine.  Tevinter had no interest in adding distant Ferelden to its diminished empire.  Their interest was a friendly government, independent of Orlais.  Tevinter worked to help Howe achieve that goal.  As a result, the mages working in his dungeons were Tevinter Magisters.  Fereldan apostates, loyal to Howe for hiding them, assisted the Magisters.

Highever mines interested the Tevinters, but the Couslands refused to trade.  Instead, their ore, knowledge and products went to Nevarra and House Haris.  The Cousland’s support of Nevarran mines in the Blasted Hills threatened both Orlesian and Tevinter interests.  Orlais wanted the mines back.  Tevinter wanted to contain growing Nevarran power.  For Tevinter it was a tenuous balance.  Allowing Nevarra sufficient power to constrain Orlais, but not threaten Tevinter’s southern borderlands.

Another delicate area lay in developing a slave trade with Ferelden.  Ferelden outlawed slavery and the Couslands refused to trade in humans or elves.  Howe did not have Bryce Cousland’s scruples.  He devised a plan, which provided primarily elves to Tevinter slavers.

Elves lived freely in Ferelden, if not always well.  An offer of jobs at good wages drew them like bears to honey.  The recruiters, usually elves themselves, came to the Alienages or smaller settlements promising jobs in the mines, on the farms or in the mills of northern Ferelden, the Free Marches, and Nevarra.  The elves came from Denerim, Amaranthine or the south and west.  Howe avoided taking elves from Highever, where their relatives might complain to the Teyrn when they did not return.  The elves boarded Tevinter ships in a remote inlet not far from Vigil’s Keep.  It was not until the elves, or occasional human, found themselves chained in the hold that they realized the ships were slavers. 

Before they knew it, the captives, usually single, young men, found themselves bound for Minrathous, Carastes, Marnus Pell or Vyrantium.  For a time, letters home accompanied small remittances.  When the letters and money stopped, families mourned, but did not question.  The jobs paid well, but were dangerous afterall.  The secret slave trade already brought Howe more wealth than he could have imagined and with very little effort.  He did not question what was done with the slaves once they left Amaranthine. 

Howe did know what happened to the young elven women he kept.  His breeding program promised to provide a small, but steady flow of primarily elves, but some humans, for years to come, particularly if he could expand it.  Several score young women, mostly elves, remained in captivity on an abandoned seaside farmhold near the Vigil.  Howe called it his _orphanage_ , if anyone asked, and ran it without Chantry supervision.  Young elven men, on their way to the Tevinter ships, enjoyed a last night of pleasure with them.  Once pregnant, the women were well cared for.  The mothers raised their children communally; who better to care for them?  Over their fertile lifetime, each woman could safely produce twelve or more children.  The Magisters kept close watch ensuring no woman bred too soon after giving birth.  Those past breeding age went to Tevinter on the slave ships.

If asked about the _orphanage_ , Howe simply said it seemed like a good thing to do for wayward young women.  He would note that the orphans grew up in a healthy place outside of the Alienage.  They ate what they farmed.  The children learned a trade or skill.  The mages and healers saw to their health and well-being; the soldiers, guarding the farmhold, protected them from bandits and pirates.  He even had a false Chantry staffed by priests, who were on his payroll.  He never mentioned that boys went to Tevinter once they came of age and the girls joined the breeding program.  Howe hoped to set up more of the _orphanages_ , but that would have to wait until he held more power. 

Howe’s final goal was to discredit the Couslands.  He planned to gain the wealth of the Coast Range mines for Tevinter.  Eamon Guerrin had done him a favor there.  Eamon’s scheme to discredit Bryce in King Cailan’s eyes worked perfectly.  Now Cousland sat in his castle fretting about his lost influence.  Howe grinned.  _No one visited Castle Cousland.  Anything could be happening in a seacoast castle.  Who would know which tales were true and which false?  Had someone seen an Orlesian ship anchored off the coast?  Had dark figures slipped into the castle through the postern?  Was Bryce plotting?  With whom?  Where did his daughter spend her time?  Did she truly stay in Nevarra or did she make trips to Val Royeaux?  So many rumors to plant.  So many fools who would believe._     

Rendon Howe played his long game quietly.  Even his Tevinter allies did not know all his plans.  He used Rivaini led mercenaries for his attacks to confuse any investigators.  They were not the best, but their employers were less traceable.  The Rivainis put together separate bands for each job using itinerant sell swords.  So far, they had failed at their attacks on the Cousland girl, Loghain and Bryce, but it had set people to wondering about Bryce Cousland’s activities.  Why would Bryce Cousland be attacked?  What games was he playing from his remote castle?  If it increased security around the Couslands, that was not a problem.  When he finally attacked in earnest, he would succeed.

He did regret the failure to remove Loghain and capture the Cousland girl, particularly when he found out the Rivainis had lost two opportunities to take her.  Holding her in the Vigil’s secret dungeons and then marrying her to Thom would provide a clear claim to the Teyrnir when the time came.  Whether the baby she bore was his or Thom’s wouldn’t matter.  He suspected she would struggle.  Overcoming her resistance would be the reward.

The Cousland girl, of course, would be kept under control, as he had done with his wife, Juliana.  Threatening her child or children would work for a while.  Juliana had obeyed when he threatened Nathaniel.  Eventually, she would become ill, die in childbirth or suffer an accident.  A fall from a horse perhaps, as all knew she loved to ride.

Rendon leaned back in his chair, an ugly frown marring his sallow features.  The Couslands had bettered the Howe’s at every turn.  The Howes, if not the oldest noble family in Ferelden, were still older than the Couslands.  Highever had been a Howe holding once; the Couslands mere farmholders on Highever land.  Its Banns, from the Elstan family, had been Howe relations and vassals.  Sarim Cousland had taken the castle and lands on Bann Conobar Elstan’s death at the hand of his mage wife, Flemeth.  Sarim Cousland’s descendants had rebelled against the Howes and won.  Then, with their damnable luck, Bann Mather and Haelia Cousland had defeated the werewolves and become Teyrns.  Amaranthine went from being the home of the Couslands’ Howe overlords to being a vassal to the Highever Teyrnir.  His father had told him this story so many times, vowing they would one day take back what was theirs. 

To further his goals, Tarleton Howe, Rendon’s father, had sided with the Orlesians.  This resulted in skirmishes between Amaranthine and Highever where Teyrn Aengus Cousland gave token allegiance to Orlais, while secretly supporting the Rebellion.  In one dispute, late in 8:94 Dragon, Tarleton occupied a Highever holding, Harper’s Ford, and died there in battle, defeated by Aengus and his son and heir, Dougal. 

Tarleton had treated Rendon harshly.  He had not mourned the old man, whom he could never please.  Growing up, Rendon had preferred his Uncle Byron’s company to that of his father.  Like Rendon, Byron had been born late in his father, Padric’s, life to a second wife.  Byron’s mother died at his birth.  Padric left soon after to join the Grey Wardens leaving his young son to be raised by Byron’s much older step-brother, Tarleton.  Byron remembered chaffing at his brother’s demands and took pity on Tarleton’s son.  He spent time with Rendon encouraging his martial training, sparring with him and hunting. 

Byron did not favor Orlais as Tarleton did, nor did Rendon’s Tevinter mother, Livia.  By the time his father died, Rendon had already run away to join the Rebel Queen Moira in Ferelden’s southwest mountains with his uncle and mother’s tacit approval.  Tarleton told the Orlesian’s that Rendon had gone to Markham to squire with Byron’s connections there.  After Tarleton’s hanging at Harper’s Ford, Byron became Arl at King Meghren’s order.  The king chose Byron over Tarleton’s absent young son.  Byron did the minimum obeisance necessary to retain the Arling and accommodate his Orlesian overlords and his liege lord Teyrn Aengus Cousland.  Aengus did the same, while continuing to secretly support the Rebellion and sending his sons to fight.  Byron, for his part, turned a blind eye when the Rebels took refuge on Amaranthine territory. 

Eventually, Byron sent his wife, Elisabeta Markham, to her family in the Free Marches with their son Felix.  In 8:97 Blessing, Byron bent knee to King Maric and openly joined the Rebellion.  He would die in 8:99 Blessing battling in the southwest to divert attention from Maric’s forces in Gwaren.

Rendon’s mother, Livia, refused to return to Perivantium or join Elisabeta in Markham.  She remained at Vigil’s Keep, placating the Orlesians, protecting the Arling’s income, and providing what support she could to the Rebellion.  Thinking Rendon still squired in the Free Marches, the Orlesians named Rendon Arl with his mother to administer the Arling in his absence.  Livia would protect her son’s inheritance as the apparently loyal Dowager Arlessa.

Growing up, Tarleton Howe kept Rendon away from Highever and the Couslands’ supporters.  Teyrn Loghain ignored the breach between Highever and Amaranthine and assigned Rendon and the few troops he brought, to join the contingent of northerners who fought together.  Dougal and Bryce Cousland of Highever, Alex and Eleanor Burke of Long’s Reach bannorn, the Eremons of Waking Sea, Franderel’s troops from West Hill and the only Southron in the group, Leonas Bryland, from South Reach where Bryce had squired.  These nobles had joined the Rebellion before Queen Moira’s death.  As the Rebellion dragged on they would fight and survive through the lean years, the disastrous battle of West Hill and the victory at River Dane.  The group grew close as companions in war do.  Rendon found he liked and admired his new friends, in spite of his father’s lectures and his own prickly nature.  That all changed at White River.

Howe rose and began to pace.  Memories of the betrayal at White River still awoke a deep-seated anger that would not heal.  That it was irrational and unfounded did not matter.  Howe had been raised to expect Cousland betrayals and at White River, his expectations were met. 

_They pretended friendship, but Bryce Cousland proved a traitor even to his brother.  Cousland left me for dead and saved himself, his whore and Bryland.  He even deserted his brother, Dougal, and his best friend, Alex Burke.  Of course, he benefitted.  Dougal’s death made him Teyrn Aengus’ heir._

The Battle of White River followed the victory at River Dane by almost two years.  The Rebels’ push to capture Denerim had ground to a halt in the eastern Bannorn.  A reconnaissance in force, including Bryland and the Northerners, swung towards the Hafter River to test the Orlesian resistance in that area.  At White River, a tributary of the Hafter, they came, unknowingly, between two Orlesian forces while strung out in a column to ford the river.  One force of chevaliers sweeping south from the Knotwood Hills attacked the rear of the Rebel column on the west side of the river while another force, on patrol out of Denerim, pushed the column against the river from the east.  Later, Teyrn Loghain would determine the Rebel force had failed to scout adequately, despite being close to the main roads.  At the time, the Rebels only knew they were fighting for their lives against superior forces of mounted chevaliers, archers and ground troops.  

The White River runs swiftly through the open fields of the eastern Bannorn, flowing from its source in the rocky foothills northwest of Denerim.  The only route to safety from the ford lay in a forest of pine to the southwest of the Rebel column.  The tangled growth of pine trees precluded a chase by chevaliers on horseback. 

Most of the Rebels fell, in desperate fighting, before they could reach the safety of the thick woods.  The column, surprised and surrounded by chevaliers, archers and foot soldiers, could not reform to present a defensive line.  Only the slaughter of the Rebel troops at West Hill was worse than the slaughter at White River.  So few escaped that the Orlesians simply let them run and turned their attention to the dead and fallen.  The chevaliers took no prisoners.  They searched the fallen and put any survivors to the sword.  Those few who escaped, if they looked back that night, saw the glow of a funeral pyre on the northern horizon.

Later, Rendon would discover that Leonas and Bryce had escaped, along with Eleanor Burke.  Eleanor had been with a group of archers positioned on a rise near the pine forest to cover the column as it crossed the ford.  It was the one sensible defensive action taken by the Rebels that day.  The archers had done their duty until the battle became so confused that they could no longer shoot.  At that point, the archers fled. 

Bryce saw his friend Alex’s sister with the retreating archers as he and Leonas also fled towards the forest, but the girl turned and ran past them heading back towards the fighting.  She had seen her brother fall.  She screamed that she needed to get to him as Bryce grabbed her.  He and Leonas half carried, half dragged her into the pine forest.  There they told her that Dougal, Alex and Rendon had fallen in the initial charge, caught at the ford between the two attacking forces.  Bryce and Leonas had been farther back in the column.  The troops on firmer ground had been able to fight off the attacking Orlesian soldiers, giving the tag end of the column a chance to escape.  Leonas had a badly sliced shield arm and Bryce a head wound.  Eleanor finally calmed.  She had some healing skills, poultices and potions.  Their wounds tended sufficiently to allow travel, the three slowly made their way back to the main body of the Rebel army.

Rendon, Dougal and Alex had fallen at the ford, but Rendon had not died.  He lay for hours, weighted down under the bodies of his comrades and the score of Orlesian chevaliers and troops they had taken down with them.  The  valiant efforts of Dougal, Alex and Rendon enabled many in the column behind them, including Bryce and Leonas, to fight their way free.    

Rendon certainly would have drowned had they fought in deeper water, but they had struggled against the Orlesians on the river’s edge.  Once darkness fell, he freed himself from tangle of armor and bodies.  He crawled along the riverbank north of the ford, hiding in the reeds that filled the shallows.  There was no moon and the pyre had not yet been lit.  His found wounds were minor.  He removed his own armor, washed his wounds clean and slipped into the deeper water.  He let himself be carried away.  The White flowed north swiftly once past the shallows around the ford.  He let the river take him past the battlefield, the growing pile of corpses and finally the open fields until the now lit funeral pyre’s light shone only on the southern horizon. 

Rendon knew this territory.  The North Road lay a few miles to the east.  Just beyond lay Vigil’s Keep.  His mother still held the Keep.  Rendon knew the secret entrances to the dungeons.  If could make it there, he could recover and survive, unlike his companions.  There were farmholders and servants he could trust; his mother would see him cared for in secret once he got word to her. 

Rendon had not seen Bryce, Eleanor or Leonas’ bodies, but he felt sure they died too.  The attack had been too sudden and overwhelming.  If they had survived surely they would have found him.  _Eleanor would never have left Alex.  They were my friends.  They would not have made their escape without me._  

 _On the other hand_ , he thought, _there would be opportunity in this debacle.  With Dougal and Bryce dead, Highever would need a Teyrn when old Aengus died._  He was his Uncle Byron’s heir, but perhaps Amaranthine could pass to Felix.  The boy liked him and would do his bidding under his mother’s tutelage.  _I could take Highever back._   His bravery in battle had come to King Maric’s notice.  _Surely, the king will reward me  for my support._   He needed his mother’s advice.  He would get word to her.  She also knew the dungeons well.

Eventually, Rendon recovered and made his way back to the Rebel army.  To his shock both Leonas and Bryce greeted him.  _They left me for dead and escaped._   His sense of betrayal after White River never left him.  His friends had escaped, saving Alex Burke’s sister, but not him.  Worse, Bryce and Eleanor, who Rendon had hoped to win, fell in love.  In his mind, it became another Cousland betrayal, another example of the Maker be damned Cousland luck. 

Howe snorted as he recalled Maric’s reward.  For what he risked during the Rebellion, his Arling had been returned to him and he had been given a medal for his bravery at White River.  No greater title, the Highever Teyrnir remained with Bryce Cousland.  No additional lands, Highever kept the lands Bryce’s ancestors had taken.  No place at Court, Bryce and Loghain became the King’s trusted advisors.  He did have power in the Landsmeet,  but only as a Highever vassal.  Nothing had changed.  He vowed he would get his revenge one day.   _I deserve more_.  

He would not give up his plans for Highever, despite Bryce’s survival.  With his mother and then alone, after her death, he developed a long plan and presented a loyal face to his new Cousland liege and to Ferelden’s king.

Howe sat down again.  He drained his glass of Vyrantian wine and refilled it.  Staring into the fire, a faint smile gave evidence more pleasant thoughts had come to mind.

 _Finally, with Maric…gone, the plan falls into place_.  _Eamon will overreach.  His type, pushed by that annoying wife, always do and then he will fail.  Bryce will appear to plot with Orlais, I’ll see to that...perhaps with Eamon’s help._ He chuckled. _We could arrange that.  The Landsmeet would not be kind to an Orlesian traitor.  Then, we will capture the girl and maybe her mother too._ Howe smiled.  How  often had he fantasized about Eleanor Burke over the years.  He would let her watch as he and Thom took her daughter and then he would take her.  _She will make a fine toy.  For me and my bard.  Marjolaine._ He sighed, thinking of the inventive tricks the Orlesian performed. _She will have to die one day, but such a talented woman in bed and out_

 _There was Loghain, of course, but he may never return.  If he does, I’ll deal with him, as well.  Why have Magisters, if they can’t be of use.  I’ll have Highever and perhaps more.  Cailan will do my bidding, once Eamon is removed.  Anora…she would obey too, eventually.  And Maric’s bastard.  One should not forget the bastard.  Others could not take possession of the boy.  He will be used as well.  Perhaps married to Delilah.  More Theirin heirs to insure the line continues controlled by Howes.  It will take more time, but soon I will have my revenge on them all._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Lots of head canon here. I understand yours may be different. In my thoughts, both Rendon and Eamon chose their paths, but there were reasons. I do not mean to diminish the evil they do, but I want them to be more than one-dimensional. This background provides reasons, not necessarily good reasons or well thought out reasons, but reasons for what they become. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques. 
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her efforts. Her comments helped me clarify Eamon’s and Howe’s motivation in this chapter. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and those who Reviewed last week: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, nh09jrb, and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. It helps me keep going, knowing others enjoy Lys, Alistair, Loghain and their companions.


	41. Over the River and Through the Bannorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wintermarch and Guardian 9:27 Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware

 “Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe 

**Chapter 41 – OVER THE RIVER AND THROUGH THE BANNORN**

 

* * *

**9:27 Dragon  Wintermarch  ===  Dragon’s Peak Monastery**

The five templar initiates, huddled together in the practice yard, chuckled quietly and then in hushed voices discussed their latest plans.

“I don’t know where you get these ideas, Alistair, but you do come up with the best pranks,” Cuthbert said.  “This one isn’t as good as the cows, but it’s good.

“The cows?” Seth, a newer initiate, asked.  “You don’t mean the morning the lay sisters tried to milk the cows and there was no milk?  The sisters panicked, believing the worst.  They screamed about the milk drying up, apostates running about the monastery or demons attacking the herd, until cook came out to say the full milk pails were already in the cold house.”

Cuthbert grinned.  “That’s the one.”

“You did that?”

“Several of us, yes.  We’re country boys.  We know how to milk.  So we did, early, before the sisters were up.  We took the pails to their normal spot in the cold house and then went to the practice yards as usual.  By the time the sisters got to the barn we were under the Trainers watchful eye.”  He started laughing.  “The sisters thought an apostate had gotten in and cast a spell causing all the cows to go dry or some demon had swept through during the night draining them.  The Sergeant kept saying that it couldn’t be magic, the templars would have sensed it, but the sisters wouldn’t listen.  It was hilarious.  The affirmed sisters and priests were ready to perform an exorcism. 

“Then Cook came out and calmly asked them what all the noise was about.  The milk was in its usual place in the cold house and if some good spirit put it there, she was not going to complain.  No one suspected us.  The sisters blamed the brothers.  The affirmed brothers blamed the lay brothers.  The templars insisted they would have sensed magic, so no apostates or demons were involved.  In spite of that, Knight-Lieutenant Aaron sent the templars out to search for apostates on the grounds at Revered Mother Hilda’s order.  I think she and the Knight-Lieutenant did that just to calm everyone.  Too funny.”

“Don’t you want the credit?”

“No.  Actually, not getting caught or suspected is perfect.  We get the satisfaction of a prank well played and no punishment.  Just look innocent when everyone starts running about.”

“I think Revered Mother Hilda suspects us.  Her glare can be chilling at times,” Alistair shivered and grinned.  “We should probably lay low after this one.”

“We risk punishment this time if the templars get too angry.”  Ronald assured their new accomplice, Seth.  “They will know who’s doing the screaming.”

“Just be sure to keep to the timing,”  Alistair admonished.  “We need to let the templars settle into their rounds again, before the next initiate screams.  If we spread it over three nights it will make them crazy, but they won’t be sure it’s a prank.”  Alistair lowered his voice and whispered, “It could be demons in the Fade.” 

Cuthbert touched Seth’s neck lightly and laughed maniacally.

Seth jumped and then grinned.  “Understood.  Follow the plan and look innocent.”

The group scattered as a templar approached frowning.  “You up to something again, initiate?”

“No, Templar Morgan, just discussing the outcome of our sparring matches.”

“Right.  You four together usually mean trouble.  Don’t corrupt that poor youngster.” He gestured to Seth.

Alistair shrugged.  “I’m tired of pot scrubbing, Morgan.  I might take a break from pranks for a while.”  He walked off to the library.

Templar Morgan watched him, shaking his head and smiling.  Cuthbert and Alistair came up with some excellent pranks, always clever, harmless and tinged with humor.  The initiates planned well.  The templars could never catch them in the act.  He had to admire their ingenuity.  _I wonder what they’re up to this time.  Revered Mother Hilda may not be as amused, although she and the Knight-Lieutenant seemed to like the two young men._

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The screaming began after Compline[25].  First Cuthbert screamed until the templars on watch came to his cubicle to calm him. 

“Bad dream,” Cuthbert said, shuddering.  “I’ll just read for a while if you’ll allow it.”

Allowing Cuthbert to light a candle, the templars returned to the guardroom shaking their heads.  Watch, at Dragon’s Peak, meant sitting up in the guardroom playing cards, dicing or talking.  They guards had just resumed their game of Diamondback, when the screams began again.  This time it was Ronald.  As the week progressed two or three initiates screamed nightly.  Sometimes a new one and other times one from a prior night.  They all claimed bad dreams.  Then it stopped.  Two nights later, the guards heard the screaming again. 

The noise came from Alistair’s cubicle.  The templars rushed over to wake him, but he sat up as they entered.  Wearing his innocent face he said, “Just checking.  When it’s so quiet, I think everyone has left me.  And…  I’m here all,” he sniffed, “…alone.  And…,”  he rubbed his eyes, “well it’s scary.”  He gave a dramatic shudder.

The three templars just stared, suspecting that the young man was fooling them, but giving him the benefit of the doubt after all the nightmares.  The dreams had generated talk of demons and magic somehow affecting the initiates when they were in Fade.  The templars would not sense magic in the Fade and could not disprove the fears. 

Finally one of the older templars, a sergeant, said, “Just go back to sleep, Alistair.  I assure you we’re all here, but you may not be for much longer if you keep this up.”  The other templars, relieved that their sergeant considered this a prank, stomped out of Alistair’s cubicle and returned to their game.  The five initiates who instigated the prank laughed into their bolsters, pleased that their efforts had not resulted in immediate punishments.

The next morning, however, before breakfast the five stood in front of the Knight-Captain.

“Maker’s Breath, what will it be next?”

“Ser?”

“Alistair, I know you’re the ringleader.  I’m not going to punish any of you.  It seems to do no good and in the end you cause no real harm.”  The Knight-Lieutenant stood with arms crossed.  “You four, go to breakfast; Alistair you stay.” 

“Ser.”  Ronald, Cuthbert, Seth and Brian saluted the Knight-Lieutenant and left.

“You!”  Knight-Commander Aaron almost yelled in exasperation as he waved his arms.  You excel in everything except attitude and behavior.  There’s nothing more I can do with you.”

Alistair felt a chill creep up his spine.  _Maker, I’ve over done it.  He’s sending me to some other monastery._

“Usually I don’t send initiates for their six months at Kinloch hold before they turn seventeen, but you, you’re ready enough and perhaps Knight-Commander Greagoir can pound some sense into you.  Or Cullen.  You certainly behaved better when he was here.  The templars escorting this year’s contingent to the Circle Tower at Kinloch Hold will arrive next week.  Cuthbert is already going.  You’ll join him, but I’ll be warning the Knight-Commander to keep you two apart.”  Knight-Captain Aaron sighed.  “I like you Alistair.  You have talent.  You could make a good templar.  I don’t understand the childish need to rebel.  Not now.  You could take your vows, gain your knighthood-“

“-knighthood?  I’m a common born bastard.”  Alistair interrupted, not caring if he angered the Knight-Lieutenant further.

“You’re the son of some of some noble, Alistair, or you wouldn’t be here.  Teyrn Loghain wouldn’t have taken an interest.  Of course you’ll be knighted.  Is that what this is about?  You think you’ll spend your time as a templar, with no chance for advancement beyond sergeant?”

“I’m sure of it, Ser.”

“Teyrn Loghain told you this?”

“No.  The Teyrn, as you may know, is no longer in Ferelden.  Arl Eamon told me this.  He said he and the Grand Cleric agree that  I’m to be a templar and have permanent duty at Kinloch Hold.  I don’t expect to return if you send me next week.”

“Nonsense.  Certainly, the Grand Cleric has some say in your future, but I know my superior, Knight-Commander Greagoir, expects you will become a knight.  We have no orders curtailing your training.  You will continue to train as a knight, Alistair.  No one ordered me to send you Kinloch Hold.  This is my decision.  Stop worrying.  Now go to the refectory.  Later, I’ll advise you what to pack for the Hold.”

“As you say, Ser.”  Alistair saluted and left.

The Knight-Captain watched the initiate leave.  _I don’t think I want to know who he is.  First Teyrn Loghain and the future queen take an interest, and then the Chancellor, who just happens to be his childhood guardian, shows up with visiting rights from the Grand Cleric.  Alistair’s hair is darker and his eyes are hazel, but the Theirin nose is hard to mistake.  I think I’d worry too, if I were him.  I wonder who else has noticed the resemblance?  Well, I’ll not mention it, to Greagoir or anyone._

**9:27 Dragon Guardian  ===  Royal Palace, Denerim**

“Your Majesty, it’s good to see you again.”  Oriana curtsied gracefully.  Delilah Howe, Habren Bryland, Philippa Broughten and Queen Anora sat before the casement window in the salon discussing the changes Anora wanted to make in the Royal Garden this spring.

“Oriana, I hope your trip to Denerim was uneventful.”

“Completely, Your Majesty.  The North Road has become quite safe, thanks in large part to your father’s patrols, I think, Delilah.”  Oriana smiled at the young Howe daughter.

The three Ladies-in Waiting smiled at the newcomer.  Philippa rose to summon the servants and ensure Oriana had a chair and refreshments.

“Thank you, Philippa,” Anora said, frowning at Habren and Delilah. 

“Of course, Your Majesty.  Is there anything further I can do for you?”

“Nothing right now.  Delilah and Habren, you may be excused for the rest of the day.  Philippa, you may stay and visit with us.  I’m sure you and Oriana have news to exchange.”

Delilah and Habren curtsied and left.

“That Antivan bitch,” Habren muttered, once they reached the hallway.  “Why would Fergus Cousland marry her!”

Delilah frowned.  She had once hoped to marry Fergus, but found she liked Oriana, the few times she had met her.  She had no sympathy for Habren.  The girl complained about everything, in spite of her wealth and position.  She would marry Vaughan Kendalls when he returned from his squiring out in West Hills.  _He was not the nicest man, but then Habren was not a nice girl, so it should prove a match made by the Maker._ Delilah smirked _._

“What do you find so amusing?  You fawn over Anora as much as that stupid Philippa does.  Fools, both of you.  Can’t even find husbands.”

“I could, but I turned Vaughan down.”  Delilah enjoyed Habren’s wide eyes.  “You were his second choice.  Didn’t you know?”  Delilah went into her room and shut the door.

“That’s not true,” Habren screamed.  “Why would Vaughan want you?’

Delilah lay across her bed giggling.  She had told her father she did not want to marry Vaughan.  It had earned her a slap and a week in her rooms, but no betrothal had happened.  Perhaps Arl Bryland got there first, perhaps not.  Telling Habren she was the second choice was worth any punishment that might follow.  Although, even Habren might not embarrass herself by telling anyone else.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Oriana, Queen Anora and Philippa spent the afternoon discussing plants, herbs and what cuttings Oriana might send from Highever for the Royal Gardens.  Oriana promised to consult Teyrna Eleanor, as well, who had helped Anora years ago with the rose garden King Maric had encouraged her to plant.  Anora planted roses in memory of her mother’s garden, but she also recalled the extensive herbs and medicinal plants her mother grew in Gwaren.  Now she wanted to establish an herb and medicinal garden at the Palace.  The Teyrna had a lovely one in Highever.  The three women wandered the paths of the Palace gardens as they talked.

“Your Majesty, the person who would know the most about the Highever medicinal plants would be Lys.  I could write to her for suggestions,” Philippa offered.  “She always worked with the healers.  We rode out in search of medicinal plants all the time, but I’m afraid I just followed instructions.  And, of course, Lys has her Dalish friends who know even more about herbs.”

Anora smiled.  “I’ll write to her, Philippa.  I’d not realized she knew that much about medicinal herbs and plants.”  Anora tilted her head, “or that she had Dalish friends.  Now, that is surprising.”

“A clan stays on Highever land every winter with the Teyrn’s permission.  Lys came upon an injured Dalish girl and saved her some years ago.”  Philippa chuckled and shook her head.  “Only Lys.  I would have ridden off for help, but not Lys.  She managed to get the Dalish girl, Sarae, back to the clan and has visited them ever since.”

“You’re not jealous of her?”  Anora wondered.

“Why?  I’m not jealous of the wind.  Sometimes she is like a force of nature.  Then again, Lys has her faults and weaknesses too, but she’s the best friend I could have.  The Cousland word may be duty, but I think her word is loyalty.  I know if  I ever need anything, I can depend on her.”

Oriana nodded in agreement, then grinned mischievously.  “She knows poisons too, Your Majesty, should you be interested in planting a few less salubrious plants in the garden.  I’m afraid she’s had a knowledgeable tutor.”

As Philippa and Anora’s eyes widened, she laughed.  “No, not me.  I know a bit, but nothing serious.  She has a friend from Antiva, a bodyguard who worked for my family.  _He_ is quite knowledgeable.”

“The blond elf who…”  Anora stopped as Oriana nodded and glanced at Philippa.

“I take it I’m not to know…?”  Philippa hesitated, wondering if she should leave.

“The fewer who know, the better,” Anora said, “but you won’t harm Lys.  She comes to House Haris under another name.  Her companion, Kai, and this other elf have accompanied her.”

“So you go alone and meet with her on your shopping excursions.”  Philippa smiled wistfully, knowing if she went, then Habren and Delilah would want their turn.”

“I do.”

“Of course, I will say nothing.”  Philippa assured Oriana and Anora.  “I understand why I can’t go with you, Your Majesty, but perhaps I could go alone to shop?  I would love to see her next time she’s here.”

“I’ll ask her, Philippa.  She does always ask about you.  We might arrange it.”

The three women stood beneath a large elm, one of the oldest trees in the gardens.  “I’m surprised, Your Majesty.  I didn’t realize you and Lys were so close.  I always thought you didn’t care for her.” 

“We’ve had our differences, but that’s past.  Maintaining that fiction, however, eliminates any speculation, should anyone realize Lys is in Denerim.  Even Erlina does not know, Philippa.  I trust Erlina, but Lys does not and I honor her misgivings.”

“Understood, Your Majesty,” Philippa regarded the queen, eyes narrowed and mouth pursed.  Anora wore a fine moss green wool gown over a blue silk tunic.  The deep neck and trailing sleeves of the gown allowed the tunic to show.  “Now I know where your change in style originates.  I wondered who was persuasive enough to convince you to wear heavy silks, those beautiful yellows and greens, and more becoming necklines.”

“And I understand better why you and Lys are friends, Lady Broughten.  You border on impertinent.”

“I had a good teacher, Your Majesty.”

Anora looked from Philippa to Oriana, who was hiding a smile behind her hand.  “I should send both of you away,” She giggled, a sound neither Philippa or Oriana had heard before, “but I won’t.  It’s too refreshing not to have to watch every word.”  Anora began walking again.  “I regret Cailan’s actions toward Teyrn Bryce.  I am doing what I can to encourage him to see Lord Fergus, while I include, you, Oriana in my circle.  But Lys must be a secret.”

“I will say nothing, Your Majesty,” Philippa assured her.  “I believe I can be loyal to both the Crown and the Couslands.  I’m glad to know you think the same.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lord Fergus and Lady Oriana joined Queen Anora and King Cailan in the queen’s suite for dinner that evening.  The King and Queen invited no one else, but did not hide the event.  It set the nobles buzzing.  Was Teyrn Bryce back in favor?  Would Cailan require Teyrn Bryce to step aside and allow Fergus to assume the Teyrnir’s title?  Would his sister return from her self-imposed exile in Nevarra?  Whom might she marry? 

Erlina reported that the rather innocuous and boring conversation had centered around the economy and trade.  Fergus and Cailan discussed Eamon’s desire to expand trade with Orlais, Highever’s mining partnership with House Haris and Nevarra and the new House Haris compound in Denerim.  Surprisingly, Fergus had not opposed expansion of the Orlesian trade, saying the markets could support it.  He noted that Highever would not change its relationship with House Haris, but others could pursue the Orlesian connections.  He and Cailan agreed that King Maric had believed trade with Orlais would further cement the peace, so why not pursue that policy.

Oriana and Anora had discussed textiles, fashion and how trade with Orlais might change the Fereldan Court.  Then they discussed with Fergus and Cailan their plans for the Royal Gardens.  They didn’t mention poisons.

Erlina listened from her hiding place behind a carved wall panel.  Small holes in the carving on the wooden panel provided a limited view of the room.  She entered the cramped listening post from the queen’s garderobe.  Zevran had discovered the hidden space when he came to the palace to deliver the queen’s new dresses in Harvestmere.  At that time, he completed a quick survey of the queens’ rooms.  Anora agreed to the search at Lys’ suggestion, but was shocked when Zevran actually found the spy hole.  He could not tell if it had been occupied recently.  They could not know if Erlina actually knew of it or used it.

Anora still trusted Erlina, but agreed not to mention the spy hole to her.  Anora became more careful of what she said and did in her own rooms.  Zevran had not found any secret entrances to the queen’s rooms, but that did not mean secret corridors, accessed from other parts of the Palace, did not pass by Anora’s rooms and offer other spy posts.  One did not need a secret entry, only access to a space from which to listen and watch.

**9:27 Dragon  Guardian  ===  On the West Road to Kinloch Hold**

As Knight-Captain Aaron promised, the six templars assigned to march the initiates to Kinloch Hold arrived the first week of Guardian in 9:27 Dragon.  With winter barely over and temperatures still dipping below freezing at night, the frozen roads were still passable.  Mud season was several weeks away.  If they marched quickly they might avoid it, even along the more temperate shores of Lake Calenhad.  Freezing nights in dry clothes were preferable to warmer nights in wet ones.

Usually the initiates making the introductory trip to Kinloch Hold, had reached their seventeenth, or more commonly eighteenth, year.  At sixteen, Alistair was very young for the journey.  Knight-Captain Aaron hoped he wasn’t overestimating the boy’s abilities.

The templar leading the group was a Knight-Lieutenant Aaron did not know.  The other five were common templars.  Similar to lay brothers, the common templars took only minor vows, could marry, and usually served at Chantries or as auxiliary troopers led by templar knights and sergeants hunting mages or, as they would here, escorting initiates.  The common templars accompanying Knight-Lieutenant Harlow and Templar-Sergeant Micah seemed of the rougher sort, often produced in the western monasteries.  He hoped the young Knight-Lieutenant could keep them in check.

“Alistair, a word before you leave.”

“Ser.”

“Don’t think this group will find your pranks amusing.  There is some…resentment...toward Dragon’s Peak templars.  Too educated, knighthood and advancement come too easily, that sort of thing.  Just do as you’re told and you’ll be fine.  Your skills won’t let you down.”

“Thank you, ser.  I’ll resist temptation,” he smiled, “No pranks.  No humor.”

“That would be best, Initiate.  Good luck, Alistair.”  The Knight-Captain squeezed his shoulder as he walked away. 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“Initiates, shoulder those packs and form up.” 

Knight-Lieutenant Harlow stood in front of the Dragon’s Peak contingent watching the nine initiates as they lined up two by two, with their Initiate-Lieutenant Rhys leading.  Of Alistair’s close friends, only Cuthbert, at eighteen, was part of the group bound for Kinloch Hold.  The templars accompanying them formed up around the initiates  with the Knight-Lieutenant and two common templars in front and the Sergeant and remaining three behind.

“Move out, quick march to the West Road.”  Knight-Lieutenant Harlow ordered.

Alistair smiled to himself.  _If nothing else, I’ll get to see the world beyond the monastery and the mountain paths for the first time in six years.  We should follow the same route on the West Road Teyrn Loghain and I took, at least as far as Lothering.  If I keep my mouth shut this could be pleasant.  I’ll get to see Cullen._ His next thought sobered him. _I’ll also see how true the rumors of abuse are and how the mages really live in the Hold._ He sighed as he quick marched down the road from the Peak _._   _Just keep your mouth shut, Alistair_.  _Do as you’re told._

The Knight-Lieutenant called a rest halt when they reached the West Road.  They left Dragon’s Peak early, just after Matins.  Alistair guessed they reached the West Road soon after Nones.  The Peak Road to Denerim had a good surface and switchbacks to maintain an easy grade for wagons and carts, but partway down they had turned off on a lesser road heading west, away from the capital.  Taken at quick march the lesser road’s steep grades and rocky surface took its toll on legs and feet.  The ford across the Drakon, while not deep, had a swift current.  As the water pressed against them, it rose to their hips and splashed chests and backs.  They almost welcomed the resumed quick march to warm them, after the Drakon’s chill. 

Once at the West Road, the group appreciated the brief rest and time to drink from water skins.  The templars chatted, but the initiates maintained silence, unsure of the rules.  Too quickly, the Knight-Lieutenant called for them to form up.  They turned west on the West Road, heading toward South Reach and marched, at a normal pace, through the fertile fields of the Bannorn until sunset.  They camped far from any settlement and the familiar bells of the daily Offices.

The group did not quick march again those first days.  Apparently, Knight-Lieutenant Harlow and his Templar-Sergeant found nothing lacking in the initiates’ stamina and obedience.  Their own Initiate-Lieutenant helped ensure each young man knew his place and performed the assigned tasks when they camped for the night.  The common templars enjoyed being served by privileged Peak Boys, as they called them, and made the most of traveling with troops below them in rank.  The Peak Boys performed well, setting up camp, cooking the game provided by the templars, cleaning up, and pairing with an experienced templar for watch.

**9:27 Dragon  Guardian  ===  Through the Bannorn**

The first sign that easy progress on a well-surfaced road would change occurred on the fourth travel day.  Instead of continuing on the West Road, which would make a deep southward bend towards South Reach, Knight-Lieutenant Harlow turned west on a minor road through the Bannorn.  It made sense to Alistair, who had committed a map to memory in the library before they left.  

 _Teyrn Loghain trained me well,_ Alistair had thought, recalling happier excursions with the Teyrn.

The West Road dipped far to the south before heading west again through Lothering.  Kinloch Hold stood due west.  Traveling straight through the Bannorn should speed their journey, assuming they could manage all the river and stream crossings and not get lost.  _The River Dane poses the most formidable barrier, but there must be bridges, fords or ferries.  The ford across the Drakon afforded cold, but easy passage even though it wasn’t on the main Peak Road._

The roads in the Bannorn had no names.  As the templars left one settlement, signposts indicated the next; the same was true at cross-roads.  Knight-Lieutenant Harlow and Templar-Sergeant Micah had a map and seemed to know how to read it.  The rutted path slowed their progress, but Alistair estimated this more direct route would still shorten their trip by several days over the West Road route through Lothering.

As they marched in silence, Alistair observed the land as he had been taught by Teyrn Loghain.  The fertile Bannorn held most of the farmland in Ferelden, but it was by no means flat.  Hills, streams and forests alternated with wide fertile valleys.  Forests encroached upon the road in spots, but only briefly.  Here and there, a huge boulder stood out, oddly, on a hillside or in a field.  The steeper hillsides sometimes ended in rocky outcroppings, but nothing like the cliffs of the Coast Range or the towering rocky peaks of the Frostbacks.    

Farmholds, with house and out buildings set back from the road, dotted the landscape in most places.  The farmholds had a few pigs, goats and sheep, a cow or two and many chickens.  The pigs provided food, the sheep wool and the cows milk for the farmholders own use.  Unlike the Coastlands and the Frostbacks, the farmholders here did not trade in wool or cheese.  Some had horses, as well as cows, grazing in upland pastures.  Some farms had small orchards of apple, cherry and pear trees planted on the hillsides.  The valuable flat lands the farmholders reserved for their crops.  Only the newborn lambs wobbling around their pens and their shorn mothers and fathers showed that winter had ended.  Furrows of bare earth filled he fields so recently covered by winter snows.  The small reddish or yellow buds on the deciduous trees in the forests and woodlots hinted at the spring to come.

Alistair memorized the terrain and considered battle tactics as they passed through the hardwood, pine, and mixed forests scattered among the fertile fields.  The regular pattern of the trees in some locations marked those forests as managed woodlots, which provided fuel and income for the farmholds they passed.  Others forests, on the occasional steep hillside, appeared ancient and uncut.  He noted that the open land of the Bannorn provided few places for ambushes.  Any copse or height of land, which might hide bandits, was visible from a distance and easily flanked.  None of the woodlands that approached the road were large enough to hide more than a few bandits.  This road, at least, did not run through any narrow passes or notches. 

 _No wonder apostates or Tower escapees are easily caught here_.  _The Frostbacks, the Brecilian, or the Korcari must provide better hideaways, but more danger to runaways._ He recalled the mages he had seen in Highever moving freely about the Teyrnir, often without templar supervision.  _If allowing free mages works in Highever, then why not here?_   Once more he realized how ill-suited he was to becoming a templar. 

On their third day in the Bannorn, the initiates set up camp as sleet began to fall.  They rushed to provide cover for themselves and their escort before attempting a fire.  Eventually, they produced a warm dinner of re-heated soup, bread and cheese.  It was the last of the provisions the templars had purchased in a town on the West Road before they turned off into the Bannorn.

The group woke to a chilling downpour of rain mixed with sleet.  They managed a small fire to heat tea, but had to be satisfied with cold rations of dried fruit, nuts and barely warm, leftover porridge.

“There’s a village a day’s march ahead.  We’ll pick up supplies there and have a hot meal at the Chantry,” Knight-Lieutenant Harlow promised.  “We can hope for dry beds in the chantry, but most likely we will camp in the Chantry yard.  Now let’s move out.”

The patrol moved quickly with the promise of a warm dinner, fresh provisions and maybe even a dry bed.  This was their eighth day out from Dragon’s Peak and the fourth in the Bannorn.  Alistair estimated they were more than halfway to their destination.

Late in the day, the Bannorn village of Maspeth loomed out of the downpour.  A small Chantry marked the village center.

“Alright, men, set up your tents in the Chantry yard.  I’d forgotten how small this Chantry  is.  There won’t be beds for us, but I think we can hope for a hot meal and a chance to warm up.”

As the sodden group set up their tents in the Chantry yard, a templar-knight rushed to greet them.

“The Maker must have sent you, Knight-Lieutenant.  I’m Knight-Lieutenant Merys.  We’re holding an apostate, a girl who recently revealed her magic, and an escapee from the Circle Tower.  We haven’t yet sent to Kinloch Hold to let them know.  There are only four of us here.  Can you escort these apostates to the Tower?”

“We can.  It will be good training for these initiates.”

“Initiates?”

“Peak Boys on their first visit to Kinloch Hold.”

“Maker, how did you get that duty?”

“This lots not too bad.  Obedient.  Well trained.  Quiet.  I expected worse, based on stories of Dragon’s Peak pampered, privileged boys.”

“Well, they’ll get an idea of how bad it can be with these two.  The girl is sixteen and has managed to hide her magic for years it seems.  She even worked with the sisters as an herbalist.”

“Herbalist.  That’s an obvious cover for a mage.  Wasn’t she investigated?”

“We watched her, but saw nothing.  Her aunt was a healer and herbalist with no signs of magic.  There was no history in the family.  Either they were quite good at hiding their magic or she’s the first.”

“Should we take the aunt too?  Or…you said was?”

“Yes, she’s dead.  Fought us when we took the girl.”

“Maker, when will they learn not to get in our way?”  The Knight-Lieutenant turned to Templar-Sergeant Micah.  “We’ll have two apostates with us when we leave in the morning, Micah.  Work with the Knight-Lieutenant’s people to secure them and get them ready.”

“Ser.”  The Sergeant crossed his arms over his chest and bowed in salute.

“How did the girl manifest?”  Knight-Lieutenant Harlow asked.

“She thought she was alone and cast a healing spell.  Apparently she’s been doing this for a while.  Slowly healing folks so it wouldn’t be noticed.  She did it at night while the patients and sisters slept.  One of the sisters saw her.  The first time the sister wasn’t sure, but when it happened twice more she told us.  We caught her in the act.”

“And the escapee?”

“Found him near a farmhold trying to get work for food.  Farmer hired him for the day, but got suspicious and sent his son to warn us.  The mage is a bit bruised and battered.”  The Chantry Knight-Lieutenant noticed Harlow’s raised eyebrows.  “He didn’t resist.  In fact, he was pretty resigned once he saw us approaching.  One of our men encountered him in the past, however, and got a bit enthusiastic during the capture.  The mage has escaped before.  Tall, blond, smart mouth.”

Harlow grimaced, knowing exactly whom the Knight-Lieutenant meant.  “Again?  Maker, he must hold the escape record.”

“Claims he swam to the mainland this time.”

“Swam?!”

“About a week ago.”

“We’ll take him back.  That one should be made tranquil before it’s too late.  He never hurts anyone, but he won’t stop escaping.  I don’t know what Knight-Commander Greagoir is thinking listening to the First-Enchanter.”  He stopped.  The Chantry templar did not need to hear Kinloch Hold business.  “Should make the trip more interesting.  We’ll have the Peak Boys see what the real world is like.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

He had not intended to eavesdrop, but Alistair had been setting up the Knight-Lieutenant’s tent while Harlow spoke with the Chantry templar just outside.  He thought better of bursting out of the tent while the Chantry templar was there.  Once the templar left, Alistair came out of the tent.

“Knight-Lieutenant, you’re tent is ready.”

Knight-Lieutenant Harlow turned around and eyed the young initiate.  “You heard all that I suppose.”

“Yes, Ser.  Not intentionally, Ser.”

“No, not your fault Initiate.  I forgot you were there.  Good you waited to show yourself;  shows some intelligence and judgment on your part.  Now that you know, you can guard the apostates on the rest of the journey.”

Alistair stifled a sigh.  “Yes, Ser.”  He performed the templar salute, crossing his arms over his chest and bowing.

“Will that be a problem, Initiate?”

“No, Ser.”

“Good.  It will be good experience.  You’ll see firsthand what a danger these mages can be.”

 _Right, because healing someone can’t be good._ Alistair managed not to let his expression reveal his thoughts.

The sleet and rain ended overnight.  The morning dawned cold and clear.  Thin ice sheets covered the puddles in the Chantry yard. 

“You, Initiates, come along to help secure the mages.” 

Templar Sergeant Micah led Alistair, Cuthbert and two templar escorts into the stable behind the Chantry.  They found the two mages in a stall, its floor covered with old straw.  The mages wrists were bound in front of them.  The rope then extended around their waists, preventing them raising their arms.  A length of rope fell from the knots at the wrists and tethered them to iron rings on the wall.  This length of rope turned into a lead, when untied from the rings.  Neither mage spoke as the templars led them out to the Chantry yard.

“It’s like leading mules, you see,” said one of the common templars, standing behind the girl.  “Once you beat them a few times and yank on the lead, they learn to follow.  When they forget, you beat them again;  they soon  learn that they get no food, very little water and more punishment each time they resist.”  He grinned then ran his hands down Catherine’s chest squeezing her breasts.  He stopped when the Knight-Lieutenant looked over at him. 

Cuthbert grabbed Alistair’s arm to forestall the remark he feared would follow.  Alistair frowned, then kept quiet.

“Right,” the male mage said, distracting the templar, “every time I think I’m getting fat from the food in the Tower refectory I run away and resist when captured.  The templars starve me.  I lose the fat and I can return and eat all I want again.”

Alistair had to suppress a smile.  He admired the mage’s spirit, but expected it would earn him a blow.  It did.  It almost succeeded in taking attention away from the young apostate.  She said nothing.  She looked at the ground and would not speak, even to her fellow mage.

“Shame she’s a mage,” the other common templar said.  “She would have made someone a fine woman one day.  No matter.  She’ll provide some amusement for us on the way.”  The templar grinned showing missing teeth.  “Had your first woman yet, boy?”

Alistair frowned.  “No.”

“Right, they keep you boys separated from them noble girls and sisters don’t they.  Must be some willing to lay down for you.”

“Oh, leave him alone, he’s not seventeen yet.”  The Initiate-Lieutenant had walked up behind the templars.  He looked at Alistair,  “The Sergeant wants you to make sure their bonds are tight and then gather the leads.  We’re ready to move out.”

“So, you’ve had a woman?”  The older templar switched his attention to the Initiate-Lieutenant.

“I have templar.  The how and when really aren’t your concern.”  He walked away.

“Right poncy bastard isn’t he?”

“Poncy, perhaps.  Bastard, no.  That would be me.”  Alistair walked to the mages as ordered.  The templar looked after him in surprise.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Alistair said nothing to the mages as he and Cuthbert led them, following behind the other initiates.  Sergeant Micah and three of the templar escort followed.

“Not going to ask me to heel, templar?  No swift yanks to make the girl or me fall?  You plan on punishing us even without excuses?”  The male mage kept up a running banter for the first few miles. 

Alistair ignored him.

Finally the girl spoke, “Will you just shut up!”

“Well, you speak, my lady.  Name’s Anders.  What’s yours?”

She hesitated, glancing sideways at the mage.  “Catherine.  Cat to my friends.”

“Ooh, Cat.  I love Cats.”

She answered with a withering glare.

Alistair turned towards them.  “No talking, please.”

“Please?  A polite templar.  How unique.”

“And yet you still speak.”  Alistair replied, jerking the tether to the man called Anders. 

“Ah, the tether jerk.  That’s what I expected.”  He went silent for the next few miles.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The following days passed uneventfully.  The mages followed Alistair and Cuthbert with no resistance.  Other initiates were assigned to watch them at night.  The girl still didn’t speak and Anders kept quiet on the road.  The two managed to keep up the quick pace, but their breathing often became heavy, particularly in hilly sections of the road.  Breathlessness tended to preclude speech.

Each night the mages received short rations and minimal water. 

“Keeps ‘em in line,” the older templars explained to the initiates.  Most of the initiates nodded in agreement. 

“You don’t agree.”  Cuthbert sat down by Alistair with his full plate of food.

“No, I don’t.  They need the energy to keep up.  It’s been three days now.  They’re having trouble.  Tomorrow the girl won’t have the energy to continue.  The Circle mage, he may be alright for a day or two more.  He’s been through this before.”

“Should we speak to Knight-Lieutenant Harlow?”

“I did.  He says they’ll be fine.”  Alistair sat looking at his still half full plate.  “Cuth, I think they plan to rape her when she can’t keep up.  They’ll beat him again and then give them no food.  They will expect us drag them along on the next day and then when we set up camp, they’ll want to punish them again for lagging.  I’m not sure they intend for her to make it to Kinloch Hold.”

“Alistair, that’s…crazy.  I know they’re harsh and I’m afraid you’re right about rape, but why would they want her dead?”

“One less mage in the world.  Punishment for hiding it for so long.  She’s an apostate, an illegal mage.  She fooled the Chantry templars for years.  I think the templars at the Chantry suggested she be punished along the way.  These guys are more than happy to oblige.  Anders is an escapee who they caught.  He didn’t fool them; he fooled the templars at the Hold.  They know he’ll be punished when he gets back.  The girl will just be taken into the Circle.  They want her punished and if dies, well that’s fine with them too.” 

“Alistair, I think you may be exaggerating the problem.  She may be a healer, but she’s still a mage and dangerous.  She’s not had training.”

“Cuthbert, she hid her magic for years.  Don’t you think that takes control?  Maybe she needs to be punished for hiding it, but that doesn’t include rape, much less death.  And I’m not exaggerating.  Cuth, there are bad templars.  I can’t tell you how I know, but I know.  I think we’re traveling with some of them and I’m not sure the Knight-Lieutenant can stop them.  He’s barely older than we are.  I don’t know about the Templar-Sergeant, he may be inclined to join them.”

The two initiates looked at each other.  “Well, I don’t want her dead.  We’ve pulled harmless pranks before, maybe it’s time for a beneficial one.”  Cuthbert got up and slapped Alistair on the shoulder.  “I’ve got this tonight.”

“Thanks, Cuth.  Keep it quiet.”

Cuthbert grinned.  “Don’t worry.”

The templars had relented and given each mage a blanket, although they still slept in the open, tied to a tree and away from the warmth of the fire.  That night the girl, Catherine, found a partly filled water skin, bread and cheese hidden under her blanket.  She rolled away from the firelight and sipped the water until the skin was empty, then ate the food.  Apparently one of her captors was human afterall.

Both mages succeeded in keeping up the next day and all the following days.  Most nights a small meal found its way under the girl’s blanket.  She never found out who provided it.  After the first night Anders also found water, bread and cheese with his blanket.  While he had a smart mouth, he was no fool.  He never mentioned the extra rations either, but he thought he knew who had taken pity on Cat and him.  They would be spending the next six months in the Circle Tower.  He might thank them if he got the chance.

During the day, the two initiates sometimes slipped the mages small pieces of bread or cheese.  They always allowed them extra water; even a few extra sips added up over the course of a day.  The initiates could not stop the templars from hitting Anders or touching Catherine, but the food enabled the two mages to keep up and avoid harsher punishments when they stopped for the night.  Neither the Knight-Lieutenant or the Templar-Sergeant would allow the templars to punish the mages if they did not delay the march. 

“You need to be careful not to show too much compassion,” the Knight-Lieutenant said quietly to Alistair one evening.

“Ser?”

“You’re both very good.  I now understand Knight-Captain Aaron’s warnings about you.  I haven’t seen you give the mages anything, but I can assure you Sergeant Micah suspects that you do and the others resent not being able to touch the girl.  Be careful.”

“Ser.  I am always careful, Ser.  I wouldn’t want the mages to escape.”

“Of course not, Initiate.  Carry on.” 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The next days passed with no further incidents from the templars or the mages.  A ferry took the group across the River Dane.  After a day’s march, Alistair got his first view of the Tower of the Circle of Magi rising up from its island in Lake Calenhad.  Alistair’s eyes widened in surprise as he viewed the tower built centuries ago by dwarves and Avvar tribes. 

_Maker’s Breathe, it’s monumental…and not in a good way.  Ominous might be the word I’d choose.  Hardly any windows.  Smooth stone work.  And how in Maker’s Name did Anders swim from there?_

The girl, Cat, shivered as she Tower came into view.  They had stopped on the rise above the lake and stood some distance from the nearest templar.  The young mage, Anders, reassured her.

“It’s not the worst place you could be.  You’ll be alive, at least.  It’s not even the worst Circle Tower.  Just do as they ask.  I’ll introduce you to some good people.  You’ll do well.  Healers are valued if they behave.”

“Just like you?”

Anders shrugged.  “I like the wind in my hair, the sun on face and the road beneath my feet.  Others can tolerate being inside all the time.”

“And you think I’m one of those?”

“I think you’re a healer.  Healers often get to leave.  If you’re lucky and you have a good record, you’ll go to Highever where mages have more privileges.”

They had been whispering unaware that the Initiate could hear them. 

Alistair turned to them speaking quietly.  “Anders is right.  Highever is different.  I’ve been there.  The Teyrn respects mages.  Healers work with Chantry sisters in clinics.  There are many free mages who travel with no templar escort.  They even have mages in their guard.  Instead of trying to escape for a few days or weeks, you should both try for assignments to Highever.  Then your escape would be permanent.”  He looked at Anders.  “You’re a healer too, aren’t you?”

Anders looked surprised, then chuckled.  “I thought I hid those weak healing spells.  And that an inexperienced initiate like you wouldn’t sense them.”

“Luckily you did from everyone else.  I wanted Catherine to make it here safely, so I didn’t interfere.”

Alistair’s voice rose, as he spoke harshly, “Now let’s move you two.  No more lagging.  I’m tired of pulling on this tether.  We’ll all be happier with you two inside.”

Keeping silent, the templars, initiates and mages headed down the hill to the boat, which would ferry them to the Kinloch Hold.

 

* * *

 

[25] I adopted the medieval Catholic Church practice, as performed in 13th Century England, of dividing the day into Offices.  The seven offices do not correspond to modern hours.  The Offices divide the day from first light to just after full darkness.  Bells were rung at the start of each Office and signaled time for prayer in churches, monasteries and convents.  Matins refers to the first Office of the day, occurring at first light, which will vary during the year.  Compline, the last Office of the day, occurred some hours after sunset, but before midnight.  The other Offices were Prime, Terce, Sext, None at about mid-day and Vespers at sunset.  An eighth Office, Vespers, occurred just after midnight.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Regarding templars: The Epilogue of Asunder tells us that there are at least fifteen Knight-Commanders in Thedas. As small as Ferelden is, I assume it has only one, Greagoir, who reports to Grand Cleric Elemena.
> 
> As for the templar hierarchy, we know there are templars who can marry, templars who serve at Chantries, templars who serve in Circle Towers, templars who join later in life, templars who are knights and templars who are not knights. My head canon proposes that there are three levels/types of templars. Two types come from the Chantry bred and educated group who take full vows and have trained as templars for years. Nobles become knight-templars and officers, both in Circle Towers and at Chantries. Commoners become non-knight-templars who also take full vows and form the non-commissioned officer ranks, both in Circle Towers and at Chantries.
> 
> Those who join the templars later become common templars. (Analogous to lay brothers and sisters) If they are already knights, they may serve in Chantries, but probably not in the Circle Tower. It’s unlikely they will move to higher ranks. Commoners who join later make up the common templar troops outside the Circles. These templars join apostate hunts, serve in Chantries and at monasteries, but rarely serve in Circle Towers. I see these common templars as rougher, less educated troops, but not less dedicated to the cause.
> 
> There is some mobility within the ranks, but going from common templar to knight-templar is rare. All templars receive full templar training, but those who join later don’t have the years of practice so are less proficient. All receive lyrium. Again, this is my head canon and yours may differ.
> 
> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques. 
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her efforts. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and those who Reviewed last week: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, nh09jrb, KatDancer2 and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. Knowing others enjoy Lys, Alistair, Loghain and their companions keeps me going.


	42. Into the Circle Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:27 Dragon Drakonis through Kingsway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.
> 
> A/N: Reposted the original Chapter 42 as two chapters. Very little change to content. Felt a need to get overlong chapters under control before continuing. Chapter 42: Into the Circle Tower and Chapter 43: Harrowings.

 “Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 42 – INTO THE CIRCLE TOWER**

* * *

 

**9:27 Dragon  Drakonis through August ===  The Tower of the Circle of Magi**

Anders sighed as he settled into his seat on the Lisie.  The group had camped near the Tower the night before, to assure an early arrival at the Kinloch Hold dock.  Alistair had wondered if the mages were relieved to have another night in the open air or disappointed not to get the arrival at Kinloch Hold over with.

“Back again, Anders?”  Kester, the boatman, chortled.  “When will you learn, boy?  You’re better off inside.”

Anders didn’t answer the boatman.  He slumped in his seat next to Alistair, facing the mainland as it receded behind them.  Sitting on the opposite seat facing Alistair and Anders, Catherine’s eyes grew wide as the tower loomed over them.  She still rarely spoke, so it surprised Alistair when she quietly thanked him.

“You took risks for us and you did not have to.  Anders explained what you did was… rare behavior.  I know your friend helped, but you convinced him.  Thank you.”

Alistair felt the blush creeping up his neck.  For once, he was glad to be wearing his helmet.  Thanks from Anders was one thing.  Thanks from a pretty mage, his own age, was something else.  He wasn’t used to being around women, much less young women.  _I might be glad to keep this damn tin pot on in the Tower._   He nodded in response to her thanks.  Seeing the shadow of the Circle Tower creep over them, he wondered if he had the same overwhelmed, helpless look as he saw on Catherine’s face.  It had occurred to him that once he entered he, too, might never leave.

Knight-Lieutenant Harlow met the group from the second boat at the door.  At his pull of the bell cord, the great doors had opened.  Two templars stood guard as the templars, initiates, and mages entered the Tower of the Circle of Magi or, as the templars called it, Kinloch Hold.  The Knight-Lieutenant had come over in the first boat, entering the Tower ahead of Alistair’s group.  He must have sent for the Knight-Commander immediately.  A templar, who Alistair assumed must be Knight-Commander Greagoir, arrived with an elderly mage just as Alistair’s group entered.  Alistair guessed the mage with the Knight-Commander was the First Enchanter.  The two men would deal with Anders and Catherine. 

Two other mages, one an older woman and the other a young man, accompanied the First Enchanter.  Alistair wondered if the different colors on their robes indicated rank.  He knew there were Senior Enchanters, Enchanters and Mages, as well as apprentices.  If that were so, the older mage, in red, must be the Senior Enchanter and the younger, either an Enchanter or a Mage.  The younger mage took Catherine away at the First Enchanter’s order.  Catherine gave Alistair a glance over her shoulder, fear in her eyes, as the younger mage led her through the door, which shut behind her with a resounding clang.

“Anders, you’ll spend some time in the cells thinking about your future,” Greagoir said.  “My patience wears thin.  I understand you’re the most promising healer we have seen in years, but that won’t save you if you continue with this behavior.”

The older mage, a grey haired woman, frowned and pursed her lips as she regarded Anders.  She did not speak.  The First Enchanter – _Irving, that was his name, Irving_ \- spoke when Greagoir finished.  “Anders, you must know that if you want to leave officially, to assist the Chantry healers or attend conferences, you cannot be a risk.  You’re almost ready for your Harrowing.  Think on this, boy.  Grow up and adjust to your life.  If you do not, I cannot save you.”  The older man’s voice took on a pleading tone.

Anders stared sullenly at the Senior Enchanter and the two men. 

Greagoir nodded to the templars standing behind Anders.  “Take him to the cells.  We’ll talk to him again in a few days.”

The apprentice and templars disappeared through the door.

“I don’t think you need me here, Irving.  I’ll just go see how the new apprentice is doing.”

First Enchanter Irving nodded and the woman left.

“Now, what have we here?”  Greagoir asked of Knight-Lieutenant Harlow while looking at the nine initiates.  The two men moved away from the others to speak privately.

“These are initiates from Dragon’s Peak, Ser.  Escorting them was our primary mission.  We only happened upon the two mages when we spent the night at the Maspeth Chantry.”

“So, Peak Boys.  How did they behave on the journey?”

“Well, Ser.  Knight-Captain Aaron has trained them well.  We sparred and practiced templar skills.  The youngest, the boy Alistair, is especially talented.  I can hardly believe he’s not on his dose already.  He has an attitude though.  Prankster I’m told, although we saw none of that during our travels.  He helped guard the apostates.  The rest of them performed well.  No incidents.”

The Knight-Lieutenant handed Greagoir a folded and sealed parchment.  “From Knight-Commander Aaron, Ser.”

“Good.  Glad to hear the trip was uneventful, save for the mages.  See them settled in the barracks, Knight-Lieutenant.  I have two templars  waiting in quarters to help you.  Ser Cullen came from Dragon’s Peak.  He should know most of them.  And dismiss your men.  They can return to their Chantry in the morning.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Two templars waited in the barracks to familiarize the initiates with Kinloch Hold procedures and rules.  The mid-morning bell for Sext rang as they entered the dormitory.

“Cullen,” Cuthbert shouted, breaking ranks to greet his friend.

“That’s Ser Cullen to you initiate,” the older Templar said, frowning.  “I’m Knight-Lieutenant Ranulf, your Initiate Master.  Ser Cullen will assist me.  I realize you Peak Boys know Ser Cullen, but he is a full knight and templar now.  You will show him the respect he deserves.  Ser Cullen, please proceed.”

Cullen shrugged imperceptibly.  “Initiates,” he said.  “Select a bunk, place your pack by the chest at its foot and stand at attention next to the chest.

The nine initiates quickly completed the task and stood waiting for the next instruction. 

“You are all equal here,” Cullen continued.  “There are no Initiate-Sergeants or Lieutenants recognized.  During your six months here, you will rotate through various templar duties within Kinloch Hold.  Your first six weeks will be an introduction to these duties.  Once you’re familiar with what we do here, you will be assigned to a duty group led by a templar.  While we understand much will be new to you, we expect you will catch on quickly and perform your assigned duties well.  In addition to regular duties, some of you may join a patrol seeking run-aways or apostates; a few of you may witness a Harrowing.  Assignment to these duties is not a reward.  These assignments will be allocated based on age, experience, skills, and performance.

“In the course of your duties, some mages or apprentices will attempt to befriend you.  Do not succumb to a desire to be kind and respond to them.  The mages are not your friends.  There will be times when you will meet with Enchanters and Senior Enchanters or observe their classes.  Civil discussion between templar and Enchanter in such circumstances is allowed.  Fraternization of any kind is not.  If you have to ask whether your behavior with a mage or apprentice is appropriate, then it probably is not.

“Finally, we expect you to maintain your templar and martial skills while here.  The armory and practice yard are open to all templars and initiates.  There will be formal practice sessions several times a week.  Participation is required.  You may also use the yards during any free time.

“From the yards, you can gain access to the lake shore.  You are free to walk along the shore.  We recommend you do not swim in the waters of Lake Calenhad.  This area outside the Tower compound is open only to templars.  Any mages or apprentices found there should be taken into custody. 

“Knowledge of magic can be useful to a templar.  If you wish to use the libraries of the Circle Tower, you may.  Again, fraternization with the mages is not allowed.  If you have questions about what you’ve read, a templar can arrange a meeting with an appropriate Enchanter who will answer those questions.  What we do not want is you walking up to any mage and asking questions.

“Any questions for me or Ranulf?”

“Yes, Ser Cullen.”  Cuthbert grinned,  “Do we get food?”

Cullen and Ranulf laughed.  “Tired of camp food, Initiate?”  Ranulf said.  “The refectory is on the third level between the Senior Mages Quarters and the Templar Quarters, where we are now.  The Cook serves meals just after the Prime, Nones and Vespers’ bells, so those who want to attend services at the Chapel may.  We expect that you will attend services at least once a day.  There are also meals for the night watch just after Vigils and just before Matins.  Bells will ring to announce the hours.  Raiding the kitchens, buttery or larders is not recommended.

“Now, I suggest you unpack and stow your gear in the chests.  If you want to clean up, and we recommend you do after so long on the road, you can find the baths next to the armory on the first level.  Ser Cullen can direct you.  Once you have bathed, meet Ser Cullen in the lobby, where you entered, for a tour of Kinloch Hold.  You can visit with him at the same time, as I realize many of you were his friends at the Peak.  A caution, when you are on duty, he is Ser Cullen.  He must report any insubordination.  Don’t put him in the awkward position of having to do so.” 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

Studying at Dragon’s Peak in no way prepared the young initiates for life at Kinloch Hold.  Yes, they had participated in mock apostate hunts, complete with phylacteries, on the monastery grounds.  Yes, their templar trainers had told them about demons, spirits and possession.  Yes, they had seen mages demonstrate their powers of Primal, Entropic, Creation, and Spirit Magic.  None of it prepared them for the comfortable prison that was the Tower of the Circle of Magi.

Apprentices and mages spent all their time and templars most of their time inside the Tower.  With its soaring ceilings and leaded windows circling the upper portion of the walls, the Tower’s rooms were majestic, but poorly lit.  Even the glow lamps did not provide adequate lighting.  Candles burned throughout the day to allow the mages to read and write, as they worked in their classes and libraries.  The amount of studying rivaled that of Dragon’s Peak.  The mages studied languages, Thedosian lore, history, and mathematics in a curriculum similar to Alistair’s at the Peak.  Then they studied spell craft, which Alistair likened to his martial and templar training. 

The only physical exercise for the apprentices and mages, however, came from climbing the never-ending stairs from one floor to the next.  The only outside area open to mages was a large herb garden which provided plants for potions and poultices.  Templar rules limited access to those who worked there, mostly Tranquil.  The other apprentices and mages only went out during scheduled recreation periods.  As a result, apprentices and mages had the pallor of prisoners who rarely saw the light of day. 

 _No wonder Anders tries to escape.  I would hate never seeing the sun, rain, or snow, or feeling the wind on my face._   

Each of the young Peak initiates reacted differently to the Tower.  A few found the Templar’s oversight of the mages too lenient, while most found the restrictions just right.  Several found the Tower uncomfortable and only one found the Tower disturbing.  That he hated the treatment of the mages did not surprise Alistair.  That none of his fellow Peak initiates did too, surprised him a little.  Cuthbert, the one he expected to see things as he did, believed that, on the whole, the treatment of the mages was fair, given their powers.

“Mages are dangerous Alistair.  They must be protected from themselves, before they become possessed and harm others.”  When Alistair asked about protecting mages from templars, Cuthbert scoffed.  “Those common templars do not serve here.  Chantry trained templars will not take advantage in the same way.” 

Cuthbert believed that Knight-Commander Greagoir curbed maltreatment when he found it.  He likened it to catching thieves or cutpurses in the outside world.  Nor did making mages Tranquil bother him much.  He saw it as a way to allow dangerous mages and those who feared their own powers to live and be useful as Formari or at other tasks.  What he called ‘the good’ mages had the opportunity to excel at their magic specialty and even travel from the Tower.  Cuthbert felt that the great majority, who came to the Tower as children or young teenagers served the Maker in their own way within the Fereldan Tower or elsewhere.  Exactly what that was he couldn’t quite put into words.

“Cuth, what purpose does a mage serve who remains here and does not use his or her talents.  Never heals, never helps win a battle, never protects a town from bandits…all that mage does is practice magic for a time of service that never comes.  Why?”

“To be ready if they are needed.  Say, during a Blight.  What, would you rather they all be made Tranquil?  Or killed?”

“No, of course not.  I’d rather they had a purpose in their lives.  Particularly the healers.  That girl, Catherine, she was helping her fellow towns people.  Healing them.  What’s wrong with that?  Why not assure she’s trained then let her go home and continue healing?”

Cuthbert shifted uncomfortably.  The two young men had been whispering as they sat at ease in the large library.  “Alistair, maybe you have a point about healers, but I don’t think the people would accept it.”

“If the Chantry said it was alright they would.”

“Perhaps, but it won’t happen.  You can’t do anything about it.  You’ll just get yourself in trouble and maybe your friends.”

“Point taken,” Alistair sighed.  “I’ll shut up.”  _Why don’t I believe as they do?  That’s the difference.  They simply believe what the Chantry tells them.  I believe it can be different._   

Alistair still saw the mages of Highever serving the Maker freely and largely unsupervised.  They served with sisters in Chantry clinics, they taught young mages in local schools, delaying their separation from family, and they served in the Teyrn and Arl’s guards.  He could not imagine Nyla, whom he had met in Redcliffe and Highever, locked up here; Senior Enchanter Nyla, in the Tower, would be a different woman from the one he knew.  Nyla, Tranquil, was something he refused to imagine.  He realized that if he could not stand to imagine her Tranquil, the friends of Tranquil mages must feel unimaginable horror.  And the Harrowings…there had to be a better way to test a mage’s ability to defy a demon.  When a fully trained mage failed because they couldn’t defy a demon he could not help but wonder whether the mage or the training was at fault.  He had no answers to these questions and no one to ask.  What he did know was that he would make a poor templar.  He was sure his friends did not have these questions.  They did not try to put themselves in a mage’s place and wonder why things weren’t different.  He probably would not either, if he had not known the Couslands _.  And Loghain,_ he admitted, _he respected mages and elves too._

As the weeks progressed, Alistair found himself in the kitchens, the armory, on night watch, and day watch in the Apprentice Quarters and, later, the Mage’s Quarters.  He did not go on any apostate hunts, although some of the other Peak Boys did.  No mage, as far as he knew, had escaped from the Tower during their stay.  If any of his friends had attended a Harrowing, he had not heard of it. 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

After their first six weeks at Kinloch Hold, the templars assigned Alistair along with two other Peak Boys, Peter and Llewelyn, to Cullen’s duty group.  They spent two weeks on day watch, had a week off with other duties, then two weeks on night watch.  This continued through their six-month stay at Kinloch Hold. 

After ten weeks, Anders appeared in the Library on the Apprentice floor one afternoon when Alistair was on duty with Cullen. 

“Alistair, isn’t it?”  Anders asked, quietly. 

“Anders, you know I can’t talk to you. “  His own voice echoed in his head when he spoke through the templar helmet.  He noticed the mage had faded bruises on his cheek.

“I just wanted to thank you,” Anders whispered.  “They would have starved us until we couldn’t keep up.  You saved me from a beating and Cat from far worse.”

“You’re welcome, although I didn’t save you from the cells here.  Now please move along.”

Anders chuckled.  “You’re not a very good templar material are you?”

“No, but not all of us have choices either.  I am apparently quite talented – so my path is set.”

Anders frowned, rubbing his right hand along his left arm.  After a moment he spoke.  “Hadn’t thought of that.  Rather thought all templars were volunteers.  Guess we have something in common.”  Anders moved on to a table where the other mages greeted him with smiles, Catherine among them.  He sat beside her, whispered and she glanced over her shoulder at Alistair and smiled.

Both Peter and Llewelyn skipped their watch assignments during weeks they went on apostate hunts outside the Tower.  Knight-Lieutenant Ranulf did not select Alistair for Harrowings or duty outside.  When Alistair asked why, Ranulf replied he was too young.

“You won’t have outside duty or witness a Harrowing this time, Initiate Alistair.  I’m not sure why Knight-Commander Aaron sent you this year, but no one under seventeen participates in those activities.”

“Actually, Ser, I will be seventeen in Solace.”’

“Will you?  Well, perhaps we will rethink the assignments.  Until then, you will fulfill your duties within Kinloch Hold.”

“Yes, Ser.”

“By the way, Initiate, you’ve performed well, despite your age.  You’re skills have impressed us all.  You follow orders well.  We’ve noticed you turn away overly friendly mages without incident.  You could make a good templar one day, if you showed a bit more enthusiasm.  It seems you just go through motions.  It makes us wonder what would happen in a crisis.  It’s easy to be a good templar in quiet times.”

“Thank you, Ser.  I will consider your comments and try to develop more enthusiasm, Ser.”

“Talk it over with Ser Cullen, Initiate.  He is a friend, I believe?”

“He was, Ser, at the Peak.  I will Ser, if Ser Cullen wishes to talk with me.”

“Good.  Carry on, Initiate.” 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“You’ve been reading a lot, Alistair.”  Cullen greeted him as he came on duty in the smaller Library.

“Is that a problem?”

“No, no of course not.  You’ve always read more than most.  I noticed you read a lot about creation and spirit magic and thought you might want to meet with some of the Enchanters who specialize in those areas.  Come with me.”

Alistair followed Cullen to a table in a far corner of the library where two mages sat reading and chatting.  Alistair removed his helmet as he sat down.

“Initiate Alistair, please meet Senior Enchanter Wynne and Enchanter Liam.”

Alistair nodded to the two mages as Ser Cullen moved to one side to observe, but give them a semblance of privacy.

“You look young to be an Enchanter,” Alistair said, looking at the tall, dark haired man. 

Liam’s blue eyes narrowed.  “You look young to be a Templar.”

“I’m not.  I’m an Initiate and won’t take vows for years.  I came along with the Peak Boys as a punishment of sorts.  I tend to instigate pranks.”

“That’s a foolish waste of time, young man.”  Senior Enchanter Wynne gave Alistair her best glare.

Alistair chuckled.  “Sorry, Senior Enchanter, glares don’t faze me.  I’ve been glared at by the best.”  He held up his hands, “Not to say you’re glare isn’t a good one, but I’ve endured better.”

Liam tried but failed to stifle a chuckle.  “Looks like he’s got you Wynne.”

Wynne shook her head.  “I suspect you’re too bright for your own good, child.  No wonder your Knight-Captain thought coming her might help.  Have you considered becoming something other than a templar?  The Chantry has many vocations to offer.”

“I have.  I’ve been told I’m too talented to waste as a brother.  I enjoy teaching.  I like working in the Scriptorium, but those aren’t for me.”

Wynne frowned.  “I see.  Well, that’s does make it difficult.  We tend to forget not all templars chose their profession”

“It seems we have some things in common, Alistair,” Enchanter Liam said.  “So, what did you want to know about creation and spirit magic?”

“I want to understand them better I guess.  I know Primal magic is destructive in nature, using the elements: fire, water as ice or snow, earth, and lightening.  I think I know that Entropic magic is destructive too, if less showy, damaging spirit, mind and body.  Those schools seem clearer to me.

“I think I know Creation magic can heal and Spirit magic can protect, but they can harm too.  Then there’s the idea of Spirit Healers, but that’s not Spirit magic, if I understand it correctly.  I’d like to understand those schools better.  I also want to understand the difference between a spirit assisting you and a demon possessing you.  I do understand that a spirit and a demon are different.  That the spirit has no wish to move into the mortal world, but isn’t it a fine line sometimes?”

Wynne considered the serious young man before responding.  “Those are thoughtful question, young man.  I can see where you might succeed as a teaching brother.  Liam, why don’t you explain the difference between Creation and Spirit magic schools first.”

“Why do I think this might be a test,” Liam chuckled, gaining a frown from Wynne.  “So you know a little about magic schools.”

“Yes, Enchanter.” 

“Liam, please.  I’m not that much older than you and almost as smart.”  The Initiate surprised him by blushing at the complement.

“I practice Spirit and Creation magic, which I teach.  Creation magic includes Healing magics.  It also includes spells, which enhance an ally’s abilities in battle or defend them by creating protective shields and spaces.  Spells can speed up movement, create shields against archers or increase protections against attacks.  Creation spells can also create safe areas, which repel attackers or neutralize magic.  You’re also right in thinking Creation spells can harm enemies.  Grease spells, particularly when lit on fire, can devastate a group of attackers.  A swarm of stinging insects can be as effective against a single attacker.  Most Creation spells, however, do not do direct harm.

“Spirit magic also enhances weapons and protects allies.  These spells affect bodies, minds and magic.  They deal damage to an attacker’s spirit, drain his mana, dispel or ward against magic, turn enemies into walking bombs and physically and mentally confuse them.  Dealing damage to a person’s spirit and mind weakens their physical abilities and allows them to be defeated.

“Neither school uses spirits or demons to caste the spells.  A spirit is not needed to use Spirit magic or Healing magic.  Spirit Healers are something entirely different.  Their powers are additional to their Creation magic skills, but I’ll let Wynne explain further.”

“Thank you, Liam.  That’s an A minus job, by the way.”  Wynne smirked, then turned to Alistair.  “First, as you note, spirits and demons are very different.  Spirits usually remain in the Fade and make no effort to leave or harm those in this world.  They have a potential for danger, but most are benign.  If a spirit is not benign, a mage must resist it.  If a spirit is benign, a mage must be wary.

“Demons are _always_ dangerous and should _never_ be tolerated.

“I’ve known a spirit of Faith since I was a child.  It remains in the Fade, but does assist me when I call on it to enhance my powers.  It does not try to become a part of me or leave the Fade.  It has always been benign. 

“For a spirit healer, the danger lies in attracting the attention of demons while dealing with a benign spirit in the Fade.  Templars watch us very closely.  They believe those of us who practice Creation magic, especially if we are spirit healers,  attract demons and are prone to being possessed.  That we attract demons may be true, but I don’t think I am more likely to be possessed than any other mage in the Fade.

“Does that help, young man?”

“I think so.  I guess I confused spirit healing and spirit magic.  So, healers use creation magic.  Healers helped by a spirit are called spirit healers.  Spirit magic is a different school and doesn’t include healing.”

Wynne smiled.  “Nicely summarized.  You must be a good student.”

Alistair blushed slightly.  “Sometimes, although Brother Matthew may disagree.”

Wynne chuckled.

“So are you a spirit healer too, Liam?”  Alistair asked.

“No, just a healer who practices both creation and spirit magic.  I have not yet had a spirit assist me, so I am a healer, but not a spirit healer.  Healers practice creation magic, as you noted.  You caught on quickly.  Not all templars do.”

That comment earned him a frown from Wynne, but Liam continued unfazed.

“Have we answered your questions?”

“I think so.  It certainly gives me something to think about.”

“You don’t fear magic?”  Liam asked.

“No.  Magic is a gift and mages do serve the Maker by healing and by fighting.  I spent some time in Highever once-“

“-ah, that explains a lot.  Why were you there?”  Wynn frowned and tilted head, curious.

“I served as a page for a short time, before I went to Dragon’s Peak.  I…well I met a healer called Nyla.  She worked for the Teyrn’s family.  She healed me.”

“I know Nyla.  A lovely girl and fine healer.  So you have seen how a well regulated alternative to the Circle might work.”

“I did.  I saw Chantry sisters and priests working side by side with mages.  I saw mages practicing with the Teyrn’s guard.  I don’t understand why it’s not done elsewhere.  Magic serves man when it heals and protects him.”

“It does, young man, but the mages who go to Highever are carefully selected.  Their system would not work with all mages or in all places.  Many would fail, use their gift unwisely or worse, succumb to possession.  The templars oversight may be lighter with mages who have proven they can be trusted, but the oversight is needed nonetheless.”

“I see.  I didn’t understand the selection process, I suppose.  Well, thank you Senior Enchanter Wynne.  I appreciate your time.  You too, Enchanter Liam.”

“Alistair, I teach a class of apprentice mages every morning.  Perhaps you would like to observe the class?”  Liam turned to Cullen.  “Ser Cullen, could Initiate Alistair observe my class?”

Cullen shifted, then nodded yes.  “I see no reason why not.  We’re on day duty.  I’ll arrange for us to be the templars in your area.”

“Wonderful.  Thank you Ser Cullen.  I’ll see you both in the morning.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.  
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her efforts. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine.  
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and those who Reviewed last week: Eastern Violet, Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, nh09jrb, KatDancer2 and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. Knowing others enjoy Lys, Alistair, Loghain and their companions keeps me going.


	43. Harrowings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:27 Dragon at the Tower of the Circle of Magi or Kinloch Hold from Drakonis through Kingsway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.
> 
> ________________________________________  
> A/N: NOT A NEW CHAPTER. Reposted the original Chapter 42 as two chapters. Very little change to content. Felt a need to get overlong chapters under control before continuing. Reposted chapters are: Chapter 42: Into the Circle Tower and Chapter 43: Harrowings.

 “Don't let it be forgot

That once there was a spot

For one brief shining moment…”

That was Ferelden

 Ruled by King Maric the Savior

Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 43:  HARROWINGS**

* * *

**A/N:  NOT A NEW CHAPTER. _Reposted the original Chapter 42 as two chapters.  Very little change to content.  Felt a need to get overlong chapters under control before continuing.  Reposted chapters are:  Chapter 42: Into the Circle Tower and Chapter 43: Harrowings._**

* * *

**9:27 Dragon  Drakonis through August ===  The Tower of the Circle of Magi**

The number of templars required to patrol Kinloch Hold had amazed Alistair.  The templars ate on one side of the huge refectory; the mages ate on the other side.  It seemed there was at least one templar for every two or three mages.  Since  not all the templars ate at the same time, Alistair could never determine the exact count.  The mages did all eat together.  They breakfasted between Prime and Terce bells and ate their main meal just after the Nones bell.  They ate their lighter evening meal at the Vespers bell.  The templars on night duty had meals at Compline  or Vespers and at Matins. 

The templars in Kinloch Hold were a mix of knights, sergeants and troops.  The knights formed the leadership; the templars served as soldiers and sergeants.  There were no common templars inside Kinloch Hold.  Initiates did duty with both ranks, as did new knights for their first six months.  Peak Boys expected to become knights, although on occasion one might fail to achieve that rank.

During the day, more than three dozen templars stood guard in the library where apprentices had their classes, ready to cleanse or smite if an apprentice or mage lost control.  Alistair and Ser Cullen ran down the steps from the upper level to observe Enchanter Liam’s class.

“This won’t get you in trouble will it?”

“No, Alistair.  Your interest in magic will make you a better templar.  Watching classes is one of our duties.  I just traded duty locations with two other templars.”

The two young men ran down the stairway to the first level where the apprentices had classes in the large library. 

 “Cullen, can I take this tin pot off to watch Liam’s class?”

“Yes, I’ll allow it.”

Alistair pulled the helmet off and grinned.  “Thank you, Ser.”

 “Watch it, initiate,” Cullen spoke sternly.

“Ser, yes Ser.”

“You’re impossible, Alistair.”

“I’ll behave in front of the mages.  Promise.”  He could only sense Cullen’s smirk under the helmet.  “Can’t you take yours off too?”

“Fine.  Yes.  If it will shut you up.  Now let’s join Enchanter Liam.”

Liam’s class consisted of five older apprentices learning Creation Magic.  The most talented was a young elf called Reina.  Today they worked on third level Spell Wisp and Glyph spells.  The Glyph of Repulsion came first.  The apprentices had learned it earlier that week and practiced for today’s class.  Reina created the glyph on her first try.  Liam invited Alistair to try to approach her.  He tried to reach her, but the spell knocked him back on his rear much to the fearful amusement of the apprentices.  They waited for him to smite them or, at least yell.  He surprised them by chuckling too. 

After Reina, each of the other mages created a glyph, although it took more than one try in a few cases.  Some like Reina repulsed him completely for an extended time.  Others were less powerful, but all succeeded.

“Good work, everyone.  Keep practicing this one.  You’ll be tested again.  Now let’s move on to a new spell.  This one will help your companions, but if cast too wide, it will help your enemies too.  It’s in the Spell Wisp group.”  He gave Anders a stern look.  “No grease spells, Anders, or fire balls.  We already know you can cast them.”

Anders grinned, but nodded.  “I’ll behave today, Enchanter.”

“That will be a first,” one of the other apprentices said.

“Enough.  Let’s show our observers that we can cast _and control_ our magic,” Liam said.  “Anders, let’s see you try the Spellbloom.  Then you can explain it to our templar observers.”

Anders cast the Spellbloom and turned to Alistair.  “Each of us used mana to cast the Repulsion Glyph.  As we caste, mana depletes until we have no more.  When that happens we must wait until it replenishes to caste again or take a dose of lyrium to speed up the process.  Another option, however, is to magically regenerate mana.  Spellbloom enhances mana regeneration.  I cast it over my four classmates.  Each will regenerate mana more quickly.”

“What’s the danger?”  Liam asked.  “Reina?”

“That an enemy mage will also benefit from the spell.  It does not discriminate between friend and foe.  And that the mage casting Spellbloom will use up his or her mana, leaving all mages depleted and unable to fight or heal.”

“Exactly,” Liam agreed.  “Whether fighting or healing, mages should try to conserve their mana so that some can continue to caste.”

After each mage practiced the Spellbloom, Liam stopped them.  “Reina has been practicing a fourth level Glyph.  I’d like her to show it to you all.  Anders, please go stand over there beyond the area of effect.  You can cast your strongest Spellbloom when I signal.”

Reina cast a Glyph of Neutralization on the other three mages. 

Alistair could feel the draining of mana and dispelling of magic.  _So mages could perform templar skills too.  Why should that surprise me?_

When the other mages tried to cast they could not.  It was as if he had cast a smite and cleanse area all at once.  Then Anders cast a Spellbloom spell, which sped up mana regeneration and soon the mages could cast again.

“Impressive, Enchanter Liam.  Mages have draining and dispelling abilities too.  Good lesson.”  Alistair walked over to Liam and whispered, “Now if you can only learn to drain and dispel templar abilities.’

Liam stepped back shocked, then quickly recovered.  He gave the initiate a thoughtful look.  “I think that’s all for today class.  Good efforts all around.”

Alistair grinned and shrugged.  “Thank you, all.  It’s impressive to see magic at work.  I’ve only seen…and felt healing spells up until now.”

“Aw…you should see our primal mages at work.  All I can manage is a middling size fire ball, but it works beautifully with a grease spell.”  Anders wiggled his fingers.

Alistair shuddered, “I imagine so, although I can’t say I feel comfortable envisioning its effect on people.”

“No,” a voice behind them said, “but it has a wonderful effect on darkspawn.”

They all turned to look at the newcomer.  His armor resembled templar garb, but showed no crest or insignia.” 

“Darkspawn?”  Alistair asked.  “Are you a Grey Warden, then?”

“I am.  Duncan, Warden-Commander of Ferelden.”

“Ser,” Alistair and Cullen both crossed arms and saluted. _Loghain’s spoken of him…and not in a good way.  Although he did say he was a good fighter, if not a good leader._

The six mages looked at each other. 

Liam spoke.  “What brings you to the Circle Tower, Ser Duncan?”

“Just Warden, Enchanter, I’m not a knight.  I’m recruiting.  I hope to find a mage or two who might want to join the Wardens.  Observing mages helps me identify good candidates.  Don’t worry I have both Greagoir and Irving’s permission to wander.”

“These mages are all apprentices, Warden Duncan.”

“They are, but you are not, Enchanter Liam.  And two of your apprentices show great promise as well.”

“Oooh,” Anders sidled up to Duncan, “which ones?”

“If you must know, Apprentice Anders, you, if you could follow orders, and Apprentice Reina,”

Reina stepped back, eyes wide.

“And what makes you think I would want to leave the Tower to join the Wardens?  I suppose you need healers, but I have no primal skills.”  Liam stood, arms crossed, in front of his apprentices.

“We do need healers and mages who can counter the spells of darkspawn magic.”

“Darkspawn have mages?”  Alistair asked with raised eyebrow.

“They do, Initiate Alistair.  We call them emissaries.  They can be quite powerful.”

“You know my name?”

“I do Initiate.”

Alistair glanced at Cullen, then grinned.  “Do you take templars, Warden?”

“I will take anyone who can meet my standards.  Are you volunteering, Initiate Alistair?  We do take templars into the Wardens.  Your skills would be useful against Darkspawn Emissaries.”

“No, not volunteering.  I just wondered.  I’m still an Initiate, as you seem to know.”  _And how and why does he know, I wonder?_

 Duncan smiled.  "At any rate Enchanter Liam, I won’t take you against your wishes, but think about it.  I return every so often to seek new recruits.”

“I’ll keep an eye on you too, Initiate.”  Duncan said over his shoulder as he walked through the doorway to the next room.

“Well, that was interesting.”  Liam shook his head and frowned.  “I suppose a life outside the Tower would appeal to some.”

“But not you?”  Cullen joined the conversation.

“No, Ser Cullen, oddly it does not, if it means fighting darkspawn for the rest of my life.  Now a comfortable position in Highever with my own room and a city like Higheverport to explore…that appeals to me.”  He grinned.  “For now, however, I’ll stay and try to make these idiots into real mages.”

His students hooted at him, laughing.  “We’re leaving now Enchanter,” Reina said.  “We band of happy idiots will see you again in the morning.”  The group walked towards the Apprentice Quarters, laughing at a comment from Anders.

Alistair looked at Cullen.  “I guess I shouldn’t have asked about becoming a Warden.”

“Did you?  I didn’t notice.  I thought Warden Duncan showed interest in Liam.”

Alistair smiled, as Liam looked surprised.  “Thanks, Cullen, you’re a good friend.”

“You two know each other?”

“From the Peak.  Cullen was a few years ahead of me.”

“I see.  Well, I’m too gobsmacked by the Warden’s interest in me to remember anything else that was said.”  Liam shook his head.  “Me, a Warden.  What a joke that would be.”  He looked back at Alistair.  “It’s been an honor to meet you Initiate Alistair.  Thanks for introducing us Ser Cullen.  I like your friend, but don’t worry I’ll keep that our secret.  Don’t want to ruin your careers by letting it get around that a mage likes you.”

“Let it get around all you want,” Alistair said.  “About me, that is.  Keep Cullen safe.”  He smiled back at the young Enchanter as he and Cullen walked away.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

_Only nine hops._   Alistair skipped another stone across Lake Calenhad.  He sat on the shore, a pile of flat stones next to him.  He had come out to the lakeshore from the Armory after sparring with Cullen.  It was the one place at Kinloch Hold where he could have time alone.  His fellow templars rarely came out here.  He enjoyed it.  It reminded him of his places of refuge on the lake in Redcliffe.  He had always needed time to himself.  His places on the roof, by the lake, in his room when he had it at the Redcliffe Armory, and more recently walking in the monastery grounds gave him time to think and heal.  Lys had been the only person with whom he wanted to share those places.

He wondered how the apprentices and mages found solitude.  It seemed they had no privacy.  Templars lurked around every bookshelf and pillar _.  I should use another word, but lurk just seems appropriate._   _If I were asked what templars do in Kinloch Hold, I’d say watch mages incessantly.  Intrude._   He hated it.

His skills, however, impressed the templars here.  He had just bested Cullen, which did not surprise him; he used to beat him regularly at the Peak.  Since then, he had gained new moves and Cullen had not.  It was easy to read and defend against Cullen’s predictable attacks, while surprising Cullen with his new ones.  As for his smites and cleanses, he tried to curb them and be more like his fellow Peak initiates.  He pretended his most powerful ones were unexpected.  So far that had worked.  They thought he could not fully control his powers.  The templars had considered him powerful for his age, but not uniquely so.  He skipped another stone.  _Twelve, better._

“That’s not bad.”  Cullen sat down beside him.

“I used to be able to do more.”

“That’s right, you grew up on the lake.”

“Yep.”  He skipped another stone.  “Better, that’s fifteen.”  Alistair gave Cullen a sidelong glance.  “So, lecture time is it?”

“No.  Not unless you want it to be.  I know you don’t want this.  I’ve heard the stories from Cuthbert.  You acted like an ass to put off your vows.  I’m just surprised that you’ve been on your best behavior here.”

Alistair laughed.  “I’m not stupid, Cullen.  I just act like I am.”

“I never said you were.”

“I got the political shit.  I picked my moments.  Made sure those who would be most offended see my misbehavior.  I didn’t do anything malicious, just…prankish.  They thought you held me in check all those years.”

“And no one caught on?”

“The Trainer, but he didn’t care as long as I obeyed during training.  I still taught the pages and younger initiates.  It was the one place I could relax, actually.  He resigned himself to losing lots of dummies.”

“Losing…what do you do?” 

“Fight them.  Smite them.  I’m pretty good you know.”  Alistair snickered as Cullen rubbed his shoulder.  “Oh right, you’re the one I just beat.  Still sore?  You do know there are a lot of healing mages in this building.  Why don’t the templars use them?”

“Don’t ask that question.  We just don’t.  I think they’re afraid the mages will cast other spells and harm us.”

“That’s…foolish.  There must be Senior Enchanters, even Enchanters whom you could trust.”

“Not my decision, Alistair.”  Cullen frowned.  “Cuthbert said you had been on punishment duty a lot and not in the library.  You enjoyed the Peak’s kitchens?”

“No.  At least not cleaning pots, chopping wood and peeling vegetables.  I did get to sneak food though.  They still sent me for the cheese.”

“You’re joking.  They didn’t realize you ate half the wheel before you brought it up?”

“I didn’t.  I’ve become sneakier.  I cut slivers off, wrapped them and left them down there.  No cheese breath.  Nothing on me.  Picture of innocence.  Then I snuck down later and got my stash.”

“Maker, Alistair, you’ll turn to banditry next.”

“Maybe that would be an improvement.  Steal from the nobles and give to the poor or the elves.”

Cullen snorted.  “Anyone else catch on?”

“Yeah, Revered Mother Hilda.  That’s was a bit of a problem.  I finally explained that I didn’t want to be a templar.  I asked if I could be a brother.  Teach.  Work in the scriptorium.  It surprised her.  I think she expected I would ask to leave.  She still said no. 

“Funny though, I don’t think she ever told the Knight-Captain.  I think she even asked the Grand Cleric.  Doesn’t matter,  the answer was still no.  So I don’t feel  badly.  I tried and no one listened.  Again.

“Seventeen,” he said, as he skipped another stone.  “My record is twenty two, but I think I had a particularly good stone that day.”  His eyes became unfocused and he didn’t speak for a while.  “And good company.”

Cullen watched his friend continue to skip stones.  He knew there were things Alistair never confided, even to him.  “You’ll get yourself worse punishments if you continue. 

“Have to go a long way to top what I’ve had in the past.”  He looked over his shoulder at Cullen.  “You saw  my back.”

Cullen had.  The scars from lashings he suffered before he came to the Chantry still showed.  Alistair had managed to hide them his first year or two, but eventually shirts came off during training and everyone saw the stripes.  By that time, they all liked him and no one asked too many questions.  There were a few other Chantry boys with scars.  Their friends let their pasts lie, unless they volunteered to talk about it.

“I have.”

“I got the first ones when I was six or seven.  Accumulated the rest over the next few years before I came to the Peak.  So unless they make me the training dummy, nothing will be worse than what I’ve already suffered.” 

The young men stared at each other.  “Which are worse, the ones on your back or the ones on your heart?”

Alistair smiled ruefully, “No confessions, Cullen, sorry.  If I ever confess it will be between Andraste and me.  I don’t discuss my heart or my soul with anyone.  Not even a good friend.”  He frowned.  “Look tell them you think you got through to me.  I’ll reform for a while, then regress.  I’ve been on good behavior here, as you said.  I’ll stay that way for a while after I return to the Peak, assuming I do.  Cuthbert needs to reform too.  I’ll do it for him.”

“Alistair-“

“-and for you Cullen.  You’re a friend.  Just tell them.”

“No, what do you mean ‘assuming you return’?”

“Oh, I was told I would be permanently assigned here with no outside duties.  Basically as much a prisoner as any mage.”

“What?  Who?”

“Doesn’t matter.  Just someone who could see that it happened.  I though that’s why I was sent this year.  Knight-Lieutenant Ranulf tells me I don’t get assigned to outside duties because I’m too young, but I wonder-.”

“-that’s true Alistair.”

“Good to know.  I’d like to return to the Peak for a while.  Stave off the vows awhile longer.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“Well, Alistair, since you have come of age,” Knight-Lieutenant Ranulf teased, “It will be your honor to attend a Harrowing.”

“That’s an honor?”

“Absolutely.  The Harrowing tests a promising apprentice’s ability to resist demonic possession and indicates the apprentice has the skill and strength of mind to become a full member of the Circle – a Mage.”  Ranulf proceeded to tell Alistair the details.  The mage, using lyrium, enters the fade, encounters a demon and must resist possession and return.  If the mage is possessed or remains too long in the fade, a templar is assigned to kill the abomination or the failed mage.

“Kill them?  I see.  Abominations must be destroyed, but what is too long?  I mean why a time limit?”

“The limit is not arbitrary.  First Enchanter Irving and Knight-Commander Greagoir agree when it’s been too long.  It can vary depending on the mage and the strength of the demon summoned.  If the mage remains too long, we assume his or her mental strength is weakening and will fail.  Once that decision is made the mage must die.”

“I see.”

“You won’t be asked to perform the deed, Alistair.  You’re there as an observer.  Rarely does more than one demon escape the Fade during a Harrowing.  It’s only the mage-abomination who must die and the assigned templar performs that duty.

“Cullen will get you and accompany you to the Harrowing chamber tonight.”

“Thank you, Knight-Commander Ranulf.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“Ready?”  Cullen held his tin pot under his arm, his demeanor formal and serious.

“As I’ll ever be, I suppose, Ser Cullen.”  Alistair replied.

Cullen looked for a trace of sarcasm in Alistair’s remark, but found none.  _Good, he’s taking this seriously.  Ranulf must have explained the ritual well._  Alistair might joke about small things, but Cullen knew something this serious wouldn’t elicit smart remarks from his friend.

The two friends climbed to the top of the Tower and the Harrowing chamber.  The Tower narrowed towards its top.  The room under the arched roof had no partitions.  Dimly lit, like most Tower rooms, the only windows were placed high on the walls between the ribs of the arches.  The room had only one entrance, which Cullen told Alistair was locked once the apprentice mage entered.  The apprentice either succeeded in the Fade or died.

The templars stationed themselves around the perimeter of the room facing a lyrium font in the center.  Greagoir and Irving stood to one side.  They did not have long to wait before a young man walked in surrounded by four templars who took him to stand before the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter.  It was clear he had recently woken from a deep sleep, but he stood, back straight and stared at the two men. 

“Anders, the time for you Harrowing has come.  You will approach the lyrium font and enter the Fade.”

“As you wish, First Enchanter,” Anders replied, then grinned.  “See you in a few.”

Greagoir sighed and Irving shook his head.  They watched the apprentice approach the font, perform the ritual and slump to the ground as his spirit entered the Fade.  A templar stood over him, sword unsheathed and tip resting on the floor in front of him.  Time seemed to move more slowly as the templars waited, fully alert, for the apprentice to return.  Alistair saw Knight-Commander Greagoir raise his eyebrows towards First Enchanter Irving.  Irving frowned and shook his head ‘no’.  The wait continued.  A templar began to lift his sword, but Greagoir put a hand up stopping him.

Suddenly, Anders moved and sat up.  “Done with that.”  He looked around.  “What?  You don’t think this is me?  Want me to run off to prove it’s Anders the Runaway?”

Greagoir groaned.  “Stand down.  He’s himself.”

Irving chuckled as he helped Anders to his feet.  “Say nothing about the Harrowing, Mage Anders. 

“Ser Cullen and Initiate Alistair take Mage Anders to his bed,” Greagoir ordered.  “He’ll be moved to the Mage’s quarters tomorrow.”

“Cullen and Alistair each took an arm over their shoulders and helped Anders down the stairs to the first level.  By the time they reached the Chapel they were practically carrying him.”

“That was exhausting.  Interesting place though.  Better than in dreams.  I can remember most of it.”

“Well, you’ll not speak of it to anyone.  You understand that?”  Cullen ordered.

“Yes, yes.  I’ll keep the secrets of the Harrowing.”  He gave Alistair a sidelong glance.  “Did you enjoy it, Initiate?”

Alistair replied with a terse, “No.”

“I almost believe you.  It’s probably more enjoyable when the apprentice dies.”

“It’s why we don’t form friendships with mages.  We might have to kill a friend, if he becomes an abomination.”  Cullen said.

“Or she,” offered Anders.  “Imagine killing a friend…or lover.  Of course that probably depends on whether the ‘lover’ agreed to that status.”

Alistair gave him a sharp look. 

“Yes, even the Tower templars have their fun, Initiate.  It’s not just the coarse western Chantry templars.”

“Enough, Anders.”  Cullen said.  “Only some do such deeds and the Knight-Commander rids the ranks of those.”

“Keep living in _that_ dream land, Ser Cullen.  Ah, here we are.  Bed.”

Anders collapsed on to his bunk and fell instantly asleep.  The two young men left him and walked back towards the stairway. 

“He’s probably right, you know.  The girl, Catherine, would have been raped had Cuthbert and I not sneaked food and water to her.  The templars with us wanted her to fall behind so they could punish her.  Knight-Lieutenant Harlow did not seem inclined to stop them.” 

“Did he stop you and Cuth?”

“No.  He knew what we did, but the others didn’t.”

“Right, because you and Cuthbert are so stealthy.”

“Out of our armor, we’re pretty quiet, actually.  Harlow knew our reputation as pranksters.  He told me he hadn’t seen anything, just assumed we fed them.  The Sergeant suspected too, but saw nothing.”

 “There are bad templars here.  I don’t know how many, but there are also mages who want relations with each other and, sometimes, with templars.  I believe I must see evidence before I’ll condemn either mages or templars.”

“Cullen, you saw what happened in your village years ago.  Those were Tower templars.  We have the power.  The mages must do as we say.  We can enter their cubicles.  We watch, constantly.”

“Yes.  And we serve Andraste and the Chantry.”

“Right.  The place where we always part company.”

“I’m afraid it is, Alistair.  I wish you believed more deeply.”

Alistair shrugged, not wishing to revisit this discussion of faith with his old friend.

“We leave in a few weeks.”

“I know.  I’ll miss you.”

“Me too.  It’s almost been like old times.  I realize, now that I’ve been here, how relaxed Dragon’s Peak is.  No roaming the fields and forests here.”

Cullen laughed.  “Well, at least I didn’t have to listen to you plan your battle strategies.”

“Hey, I can create a sand map on the beach.  I can plan all sorts of strategies there.  We’ll do it tomorrow.”

“No thanks, I’ll pass.  We don’t need strategies to catch runaway mages or apostates.”

“So I’ve been told.  Good night, Cullen.”  They clasped wrists in friendship, before Alistair went to his bunk and settled in for the night.

 _I wonder how I would fare if I had one chance to prove my mettle as a warrior?  It would just take one mistake, after years of training, to fail…and die.  Demons.  I know.  Demon possession.  There has to be a better way than this, but I suppose I’m not smart enough to figure it out._

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

During Alistair’s last two weeks at Kinloch Hold he and Cullen drew night duty one last time.  To stay awake, they often talked.  Nothing too deep or disturbing, but still the conversation of good friends.  A few nights into their last week, Knight-Captain Ranulf stopped them as they left the armory. 

“You two.  We need two more templars for a Harrowing tonight.  You two are it.  Get up to the Harrowing Chamber.”

The two templars climbed to the top of the Circle Tower to find the other templars there ahead of them.  As before, they formed a circle around the lyrium font.  As usual they all wore their helmets.  They stood so still they could have been identical statues.  Each had his hand on the hilt of his (or her, as one couldn’t tell if one of the few women templars was present) sword.  One templar stood by the font, sword drawn and held blade tip down resting on the floor in front of him (or her).  Finally, Greagoir and Irving entered followed shortly by four templars escorting the apprentice. 

Alistair did not know the apprentice.  She looked young for a Harrowing, nervous and frightened.  The atmosphere felt very different than it had for Anders’ Harrowing.  Then, Alistair had felt tension, but also a sense that all would work out.  This time the tension could be cut with a sword.  Irving looked angry and Greagoir grim.  They spoke the same words, but the girl did not respond at all, much less with smart remarks.

“Ilona, you understand what you must do?”  Irving spoke kindly.

“Yes, First Enchanter,” she whispered. 

“And what is that Ilona?”

She looked at him puzzled.

“Just repeat the instructions, Ilona.”

Alistair strained to hear her whispered response.

 “I am to go to the font, perform the ritual and enter the Fade.  I should resolve the problems presented there and defeat any demons I meet.  I should use my mind and my magic.”

“Yes, Ilona, now-

“-enough, Irving.  This is her Harrowing, not yours.  Begin, girl, no more dallying.”  Greagoir folded his arms and widened his stance.  He showed no kindness or understanding towards the young apprentice.

The girl walked slowly to the font, stared at it and, just as Greagoir was about to speak again, she touched the lyrium, cast the spell and slumped to the floor as her spirit entered the Fade.  While it had taken Anders some time to complete his Harrowing – he’d been exploring as much of the Fade as he could he later told Alistair -  it seemed no time at all had passed before the girl’s body began to change. 

“It’s possessed,”  one of the templars yelled.  The girl’s body thickened and grew rough, mottled flesh as its arms burst out of the mages robe.  Before she could stand, the templar by the font had thrust his sword into the girl’s heart, then, to be sure another templar cut off her head.  Alistair stood stunned.  Fortunately no action from him was needed.

Irving strode out of the Harrowing Chamber as soon as the templars declared the girl dead.  Alistair thought he saw a tear glisten on his cheek.

Knight-Commander Greagoir turned to the other templars.  “You are all dismissed.  The abomination will be taken to the midden and burned by Templar-Sergeant Smythe and Templar Dickon.”

The other templars filed out and were soon talking and joking as they returned to their quarters or duty stations.  Cullen pulled Alistair aside. 

“Are you alright?”

“No.  Were you when you saw your first abomination?”

“No.”

“Cullen, was that a normal Harrowing?  Or was there something odd?”

“It was odd.  That mage, Ilona, was young and perhaps not ready.  Irving seemed unhappy with the whole thing.”

“I noticed.  Do you think they knew she would fail?”

“Perhaps.  There are two ways to solve the problem of troublesome mages, Alistair.  Make them Tranquil or execute them in some fashion.  Well three.  There’s Aeonar, but that’s rarely used.”

“Aeonar?  The mage’s prison?  It exists?”

“Oh, yes.  Few know its exact location, but yes it exists.”

“So tonight was a way to cull a troublesome apprentice?”

“That’s putting it harshly.”

“Is it?  A terrified young girl was put into a situation which Greagoir and Irving knew would kill her.”

“We don’t know what danger she presented.  Mages don’t have to be physically imposing to be powerful and dangerous, afterall.”

“Right.  Still, that was horrible.  And the First Enchanter was not happy.”

“It was disturbing, but as I said, we don’t know the full story.”  He laid a hand on Alistair’s shoulder.  “We should get to our post.”

“Yes, we should.  Wouldn’t want to shirk our duty now.”  He spun around on his heel and strode off to the Apprentice level where they had duty that night.  _Thank the Maker it’s not day duty.  I don’t want to listen to the apprentices wondering where that girl is._

**9:27 Dragon  Kingsway ===  On the Road to Dragon’s Peak**

Alistair returned to Dragon’s Peak in late Kingsway.  The return trip on the West Road through Lothering had been uneventful, even enjoyable, as the pleasant autumn weather continued until after they reached the Peak.  He surprised himself by feeling as if he had returned home.  _When did the Peak become home?_   _When I left and realized how much worse it could be?  Maker, how do I get out of this?_

He remembered the Grey Warden, Duncan, from the Circle Tower.  _Maybe I should volunteer, if I see him again.  Fighting Darkspawn has to better than what I will do as a templar._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.  
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her efforts. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine.  
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and those who Reviewed last week: Eastern Violet, Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, nh09jrb, KatDancer2 and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. Knowing others enjoy Lys, Alistair, Loghain and their companions keeps me going.


	44. Shards and Slivers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:27 Dragon Wintermarch through 9:28 Dragon Cloudreach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 44–** **Shards AND SLIVERS**

* * *

**A/N:  Yes, this is a new chapter with new content.  Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

**9:27 Dragon  Wintermarch  ===  North of Seere, Rivain**

The _Mabari Rampant’s_ sea anchors held during the storm that passed through during the night.  They had replenished their stores at Seere a few days earlier.  Now they prepared to enter the Northern Passage into the Venefication Sea.  Preferring to make passage in daylight, they had dropped their sea anchors to await the dawn.  Loghain stood by the rail watching the horizon lighten.  It promised to be another clear, hot day with good winds.

In Seere, where they put in for supplies before heading to less friendly shores, they, again heard of a black ship resembling the Demelza again.  Rumor had it passing Seere well out to sea several months before.  It seemed to Loghain that they fell further behind at each sighting. 

Near the docks in Seere, Captain Isabela had met with Loghain in a small, dark tavern.  Her search found nothing but rumors.  Loghain’s search found no wrecks or signs of the Demelza or its crew and passengers.  Isabela too had heard of the dark ship with the silhouette of the Demelza, but had not seen it herself.  She wondered if it was real or a ghost ship. 

 _Sometimes,_ she told Loghain, _pirates or raiders begin a rumor telling of a ship sighting._   _The rumor spreads, carefully nurtured by the pirates, but, in fact, there was no ship.  It had been sunk, scuttled or refitted beyond recognition.  Rumors, however, would perpetuate hope and divert the searchers from the real fate of the ship and its cargo and crew._  

Loghain scoffed at her suggestion, but secretly, he too wondered.  _Could Orlais be creating these rumors?  Or was it the Demelza itself, leading them on a chase away from Maric’s true location?_  

Zevran, Lys’ Crow friend, also met them in Seere with a letter and messages from Lys.  The Crow and Isabela clearly knew each other; Zevran had not lied about that.  His messages duplicated Isabela’s.  Both mentioned a dark ship heading north, but no hard intelligence and no source for the rumors.  Isabela told Loghain that Zevran and two companions had other business in Rivain when he asked if they would meet again.  One evening he caught sight of Zevran with an elven woman and a human man.  Loghain left soon after to head north. 

Once on board, he opened the letter from Lys in the privacy of his cabin.  

_Ser Gwaren,_

_The new compound in Denerim has impressed the nobility.  Even the Queen has visited our rooms.  She still mourns the disappearance of King Maric and regrets her father’s departure to search for him.  Her husband brings her happiness, but he is often busy with his advisors, Arls Guerrin and Howe.  It is rumored Arl Guerrin will become Chancellor.  Teyrn Cousland remains away from Court in disfavor._

_Arl Guerrin continues to encourage trade and relations with Orlais.  Arl Howe, on the other hand, maintains his ties with Tevinter, but Amaranthine’s trade with the Imperium has not increased.  Even so, he seems to be quite prosperous of late.  Perhaps there is trade we do not see?  Not through Amaranthine, but perhaps Denerim?  Ah, friendly competition fuels ingenuity.  I’m sure there is profit for all, but we would like to see the bulk of it in our hands._

_Wintersend and the Little Landsmeet approach.  All the nobility want new clothes for those events.  The young Cousland heir and his wife have returned to Denerim, but not the Teyrn and Teyrna.  It’s said that Bann Teagan Guerrin, Fergus Cousland and King Cailan have taken to drinking in the Gnawed Noble tavern, attracting an ever-changing crowd of nobles.  Bann Alfstanna, Arl Bryland, Bann Sighard and Arl Wulff seem to join them most frequently for lively discussions.  Occasionally, Bann Franderel abandons Arl Urien’s entertainments to attend the King.  The King and Lord Cousland do not join the younger nobles, Wulff and Sighard’s sons and others, in excursions to the local brothels.  Both men seem strangely enamored with their wives.  Sadly, the King and Queen have no heir, although not, it is said, for want of trying._

_Arl Urien entertains at home.  Arl Howe joins him.  It’s rumored Howe, who lost his wife last summer, has found consolation with a new mistress in Denerim.  Bann Esmerelle must feel bereft, if she knows.  It’s all very secret.  What we do know is that both Arls also spend large amounts of money with us.  Arl Howe’s expenditures can’t all be for his daughter DeIilah’s wardrobe at Court.  Some items aren’t seemly for a young woman.  Isn’t gossip fun?_

_We return to Cumberland in early Drakonis.  I hope to find communications from you on arrival.  Parasols have become very popular in Denerim, now that the Queen carries one.  You may need to order more for us when you next pass through Antiva, which I hope will be soon.  Your family misses you and needs you at home._

_If you find other interesting items in your travels please purchase samples for our perusal.  We will let you know what we discover as well.  We hope to see you soon._

_Good travels,  
Layne_

Loghain chuckled.  _Nicely done Lys, but sorry we’ll follow the rumors for a while longer._

During the following months, the _Mabari Rampant_ would sail the northern seas chasing rumors of the black ship.  They would explore the Rivaini and Antivan coasts, parts of Seheron and Par Vollen and many of the islands between.  The Qunari and Tevinter ships they encountered did not appreciate their presence.  Usually they would try to outrun the other ships, particularly the Qunari with their gatlocks, but sometimes they had to stand and fight.  By Bloomingtide of 9:27, a year after Loghain had seen Lys in Antiva City, the _Mabari_ needed refitting, but they could not risk putting in at any nearby ports.  Following the rutter and charts Lys had provided, they managed to find a hidden bay where they could complete their repairs.  From there they made the difficult decision to head south.  It took five more months to make port in Denerim.     

**9:27 Dragon  Firstfall  ===  Royal Palace Denerim**

Loghain returned to Denerim in Firstfall.  His search in the northern seas around Par Vollen and Seheron had borne no fruit.  The black ship eluded them completely.  He wondered if it ever existed outside of rumor and innuendo.  If Maric was not dead, he was truly well hidden.

Anora had been both overjoyed and angry at his return.  Cailan had been distant, letting Loghain know he did not forgive what he considered Loghain’s desertion of him and Ferelden.  After a brief trip to Gwaren, Loghain remained in Denerim at Gwaren House.  Cailan received him at Court, but offered no position other than father-in-law and military advisor to his Commander of Maric’s Shield and the Guard, Cauthrien.  Howe seemed sympathetic to Loghain, but Chancellor Guerrin could not hide his self-satisfied smirk.

On most afternoons, Anora and her father walked in the gardens, in spite of the chill.  Cailan often joined them.  While he remained distant in public, Cailan could not resist the lure of Loghain’s stories.  He usually badgered the Teyrn to recount his adventures searching the seas around Seheron and Par Vollen, fighting the Qunari and Tevinters, meeting pirates in Llomerynn and engaging in street fights in Antiva City.  He envied Loghain his experiences.

“You actually beached the _Mabari Rampant_ , Loghain?”  Cailan stared at his father-in-law, eyes narrowed.

“We had to,” Loghain replied.  “It had been damaged in battle too often.  After a year of constant sailing, the dirty, patched bottom put us in further danger.  We could no longer out run our adversaries.  We also wanted to get spare masts, as we had used the three we carried out of Denerim.”

“Was it safe to put into a bay in the Seheron islands?”  Anora asked.

“Safe enough.  The rutter given to me in Antiva City identified a well-hidden bay.  Without that rutter and its charts, I’m not sure we could have found a safe beach.”

“In Antiva City?  Who gave you a rutter and charts?”  Cailan inquired, crossing his arms.

“We traded with House Haris to resupply the ship.  One of their agents lent the rutter and charts to us.  In return they asked that we bring back samples of any new items we might find in markets we visited.”

“So you must return it?  I could take it when I next visit their compound here, Father.”

“I do need to return it.  Perhaps I’ll go with you.  I’m afraid I must purchase some new things.  Salt air is not kind to clothing.”

Anora chuckled, knowing her father hated the process required to purchase new clothing.  “I will need to order a few things for First Day and Wintersend festivities.  We can go together.  Now tell us about this … what did you call it, careening?”

“Ah, yes.  Fascinating process.  Once the ship is beached, it leans over to one side.  This allows the crew to repair and clean the area from the rail to below the waterline.  It’s a slow process.  Once one side is completed, the ship is pushed over to its other side using ropes and levers.  That allows both sides and bottom to be cleaned and repaired. 

While the sailors did that, the troops and I went in search of mast trees…trees straight enough to be cut and used as spare masts.  We cut them, trimmed them and set them on the beach to begin drying out.  The whole thing took weeks.  We had to keep watch and hope no Qunari or Tevinter ships detected us.  Fortunately, it all went well.  Once cleaned, the _Mabari Rampant_ could again outrun any vessels we met.  If only our search for Maric had gone so smoothly.”

Anora saw Cailan flinch and then glower at her father’s words.  _He may never forgive Father for leaving us.  Each time he joins us in the garden, I think he’s forgiven him.  Then Maric is mentioned and he’s angry again.  Maker knows I’m angry about Father leaving too, but it’s done.  I wish Cailan would let it go._  

**9:28 Dragon  Wintersend  ===  Royal Palace Denerim**

Cailan paced as his Chancellor, Arl Howe and Queen Anora argued.

“It’s been over two years, Eamon.  Cailan’s throne is stable.  There is no reason not to follow Maric’s plan and acknowledge Alistair.  He’s not the threat you claim him to be.”  Anora did not raise her voice, but her hands grasped the arms of her chair too tightly.

The Chancellor tugged at his beard and squinted at the Queen.  “You have not seen the boy nor spoken with the Revered Mother in years.  He spends as much time in the kitchens as he does in the sparring yard.  In spite of their so-called punishments, Dragon’s Peak has been too easy on the boy.  He needs more discipline, not less.

“You contradict yourself Eamon.  He’s being punished for these pranks.”

“He should spend time in the punishment cells, not easy duty in the kitchens.  His misdeeds are not pranks.  He must understand duty, discipline and obedience.  He clearly does not.”

Arl Howe leaned back in his chair, his index finger lying on his lip beneath his prominent nose.  “I tend to agree with Her Majesty, the boy poses no threat unless he comes under bad influences.  Do you say such bad influences are found at Dragon’s Peak?”

“Alistair is the bad influence.  On his fellow initiates and his fellow students.  The templars, brothers and Revered Mother let his charm distract them from his faults.”

“I spoke with Knight-Captain Aaron when he last visited Denerim,” Howe continued, ignoring Eamon’s interruption.  “He said the boy only led his friends in harmless, if annoying, pranks.  To avoid his falling into bad company, we need to ensure he marries quickly and appropriately.  Once married and in apartments here, he can be watched and guided.”

Eamon had risen and stood at the window, staring out.  “And you have someone in mind, Rendon?” he asked, not turning to look at Howe.  He was well aware of the answer. 

“Delilah.  You have no daughter Eamon.  Who else is there?”

“Perhaps he can marry to solidify a foreign alliance.”  _I’m sure the Empress could find a suitable Orlesian noble._

“I don’t think Alistair learned Orlesian at Dragon’s Peak, Eamon.”  Anora’s spoke sharply.

The Chancellor turned, responding to Anora’s remark with a glare.  “Actually, Your Majesty, he has.  A useful skill for young nobles and templars alike, apparently.”  Eamon smiled at Anora’s surprise. 

“Enough!”  Cailan snapped.  “The three of you only prove why he should remain where he is.  You each want to control him.  I won’t have it.  Let him have a life free of all this.  That is what father intended.”

Anora sighed  “Acknowledge him Cailan and let him stay here as your brother.  Don’t betroth him to anyone.  Let him join Maric’s Shield.  He’s trained.  He should make a fine Lieutenant.”

“Under whose influence?  You father’s?”  Eamon sat in the vacant chair by Howe.  “Not to mention, every bann’s daughter will crowd around him begging for attention.  Your Majesty, he may cause you more embarrassment than help.  He’s constantly punished for misbehaving.  I suspect this Knight-Captain only hides his own incompetence when he excuses the boy.  He’s what almost twenty?  His deeds are more than pranks.  He’s liable to come here only to drink, whore and commit who knows what other crimes.  How many bastards do you want running around?  He’s been a trial since he was a boy.”

Anora pushed her chair from the table abruptly and stood.  “That’s ridiculous Eamon,” she hissed, jaw clenched.  “Alistair may be a prankster, but he will no more commit crimes than I would.  And, if anything, he’s likely to be shy around women.  You forget, I know him, too. At least _I_ know his age.  He’ll be eighteen in Solace.”

Loghain strode into the room. 

“Father?”

Loghain bowed to Cailan.  “I would like to join this conversation with your permission, your Majesty.”  He glanced at Eamon.  “And Anora’s right.  Alistair will be comfortable among other soldiers, but uncomfortable at Court.  He’s been raised among men and boys in a monastery for Maker’s sake.  Dragon’s Peak keeps the boys and girls quite separate, as you well know Eamon.  The boys encounter the sisters and mothers only during services.”

“We know your views, Loghain.  There’s no need for you to stay.  Anora has presented them quite competently,” Eamon said.

Cailan whirled around angrily, arms folded across his chest.  “I believe, Chancellor Guerrin, the Teyrn asked _me_ for permission to join this group.  And you will address Her Majesty less familiarly.”

“Yes, of course, Your Majesty,” Eamon soothed, “but it is my role to keep unnecessary-“

“-Loghain is not unnecessary, Eamon.”  Cailan turned to his father-in-law.  “You may join, Loghain.  At least I know  you have Alistair’s best interests at heart.”

“I object, Your Majesty,” Eamon said.  “I have cared for the boy since he was a babe.”

Eamon became uncomfortable under Cailan’s stare.  “Eamon, I saw Alistair lashed outside the stables at Redcliffe at the order of your wife.  I saw a ten-year-old boy with blood running from lash stripes across his back.  A boy I knew to be my half-brother.  I assume he still bears those scars.  Don’t tell me about his best interests.  Loghain saved him from your attentions, as I recall.”

Eamon squirmed.  He had not realized Cailan had seen the boy that day.  “As I said, Your Majesty, he has always been difficult.”

 _Eamon you make this too easy._ Howe spoke again.  “Perhaps, Your Majesty, until you are comfortable that Alistair will be safe and well-behaved, you should keep him at the Peak.  It might be wise to make arrangements before you bring him here.  Provide him with responsibilities to keep him occupied.  Perhaps with Maric’s Shield, as Her Majesty suggested, or some other military group, given his training.  A wife as well.  If not Delilah, then perhaps a foreigner from the Free Marches?  There are the Vael girls.”

Anora sighed.  “Cailan, we need to prepare before the Landsmeet, speak with the Grand Cleric, talk to some of the nobles-“

“-Howe has a point.  Leave him.”  Cailan crossed his arms as his eyes narrowed and his jaw set.

“But-“

“-no buts, Anora.  He stays at the Peak.  He can continue his training without taking templar vows.  I won’t have him pulled in a dozen directions by every fool noble who wants influence over me.  I like the idea of arranging a betrothal before we acknowledge him.  We can acknowledge him and announce his betrothal at the autumn Landsmeet.  He can wed immediately afterwards.  Howe, I will consider Delilah.  Loghain and I will discuss with Cauthrien whether to place him with the Shield or Guards.  Let’s work on that and be ready to act in August.”  

Loghain and Anora exchanged exasperated looks.  They did not dare mention that Alistair was already betrothed.  Cailan knew it.  Clearly, he did not think Lys Cousland an appropriate wife.

**9:28 Dragon  28 Guardian ===  Highever House**

The cart from House Haris entered the stable yard of the Cousland’s Denerim Estate.  Fergus and Oriana used Highever House when they came to Denerim for Court during the spring and fall Landsmeets, but rarely entertained.  The House remained closed the rest of the year.  Lys lived at the Haris Compound when she came to Denerim as Layne Haris.  She had a comfortable set of rooms in the compound for herself and Kai.  Since that had become her Denerim home, she decided to retrieve some personal items from the Estate.  Before he returned to Highever, Fergus alerted the caretakers, Tilda and Oswin, that an agent from House Haris would come to collect Lys’ things.  He let them assume the chests would be sent to Highever.

Kai took charge and spoke with Tilda, presenting the Haris credentials and gaining entry, while Lys kept to the background with her hood up.  Kai had spent very little time here, so, as Lys had hoped, Tilda did not recognize her.  Kai  left the Haris porters in the kitchens and motioned to her hooded companion to follow her upstairs.  Tilda would feed the porters, while Kai and Lys packed her things.

Lys stepped into her room.  The leaded casement windows looked out over the garden to the ocean.  A strip of sunlight slanted across the wide boards of the floor and over the coverlet on the bed. 

“I miss this.  It’s such a lovely room.”  She opened a casement to let in the breeze and smell of the sea.  Then she pushed against the wooden panel next to the fireplace.  It opened.

“That’s clever,” Kai said.

“All my treasures.  It’s a common feature in these old houses, but as a child I thought I’d found a completely secret hideaway.  I discovered it when I fell against it.  That’s how I had to open it for years.  Bounce my whole body against it.”  Lys giggled. 

Kai raised an eyebrow, then laughed, picturing a smaller Lys launching herself at the wall.

Lys pulled a wooden crate from the hideaway, along with small chest.

“The crate has all of Alistair’s personal things.  Things he couldn’t keep when he arrived at Dragon’s Peak.  The chest holds some jewelry and clothing I left here.”  Lys then went around the room gathering random items.  A few drawings, some figurines, a hand mirror, some books and scrolls, and her lute.  She packed these in another small chest they had brought with them.  In no time, she had everything she wanted. 

“We should go.  I could sit and stare at the sea until mid-afternoon bells, but that would be silly.”  She closed the casement. 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lys sorted through the items from Highever House, displaying them or putting them in their appropriate storage chest or drawer in her Haris compound rooms.  Finally, she opened Alistair’s crate and sorted through his figurines, map and books.  At the bottom, she found the amulet he used to wear, its chain still broken. 

 _I should have this repaired.  Loghain could take it to him now.  Certainly, he could wear a holy amulet._ Lys examined the chain.  _The amulet is antique silver and of decent quality.  The chain isn’t.  I should just get a new silver one.  Our jeweler in Cumberland could clean and polish this.  Perhaps the dent can be removed.  I’ll take it with me when we return and then give it to Loghain on my next visit.  A few more months won’t matter._

**9:28 Dragon  2 Drakonis === Haris Compound**

Anora and Loghain sat in the showroom waiting.  They had come together, with no attendants, to order clothes for their planned trip to Gwaren for Summerday.  They also came to visit with Lys. 

Gwaren loved the honor of having both their Teyrn and his daughter present for their Summerday celebrations.  It had not happened since Anora became Queen.  Anora insisted her father have appropriate attire for the planned dinners, galas and celebrations.  Gwaren might be smaller than Higheverport or Amaranthine, but it considered itself no less important.  When their Teyrn and his daughter returned, they celebrated.

As usual, Layne Haris also known as Lys Cousland, entered with her friend and assistant, Kailian Tabris.  Both curtsied

“It’s good to see you both again, Your Majesty and Your Grace.  I hope we can meet your needs today.”

“Lys,” Anora stood to hug her, but Lys simply took her hands and leaned forward to kiss her on each cheek in the Nevarran fashion.  She did not greet Loghain with either kisses or a hug.

“You’re angry,” Teyrn Loghain noted.

Lys stepped back as Anora sat down.  “No.  Sad.  Disappointed.  Resigned.  Certainly not surprised.”  She shrugged, as Kai poured tea for Anora. 

Loghain shook his head, declining refreshments.  “About Alistair, I assume?”

“Fergus says King Cailan wants Alistair betrothed before he acknowledges him.  And settled with a small bann and a place in the Shield.”

“Eamon doesn’t want him free of the Chantry at all.  He argues that now Alistair is trained as a templar he must stay.  Howe’s price is a betrothal.  We need Howe’s support to win over the Landsmeet,” Loghain growled.

“Eamon is the obstacle, Lys.  We think Eamon has not represented us correctly to Elemena or her to us.  Cailan and I will ensure that does not happen again by meeting with her directly.  Maric had an agreement with her.  It should be followed.”

“And the betrothal? “

Anora and Loghain exchanged a glance and then Loghain spoke.  “To Delilah Howe.”

Anora looked down and away from Lys as she played with her rings.

“I see.”  Lys stood stiffly. 

Kai stood to one side, but offered no comment or sympathy beyond a sidelong glare at the Teyrn. 

“Quite an advantageous alliance for the Howes.  Perhaps you’ll be creating a third Teyrnir?”  Lys said.

Anora’s head snapped up.  “No, there are no plans for that, Lady Cousland.”

“Howe will ask that Amaranthine become an independent Arling at the Landsmeet.  He’ll renounce his allegiance to Highever.  You do realize he’s not to be trusted?”

“The true concern is Eamon Guerrin and Orlais.”  Loghain spoke too loudly and slammed a fist on the table. 

Both Lys and Anora jumped.

“Father, you exaggerate Eamon’s sympathies.  Trade is not treason.”  She spoke firmly, then added, “But the Orlesian sympathizers do seem to better organized of late.  We’ve had rumors of an organization called the Society for Trade and Culture whose members are artisans and merchants.  They claim to encourage trade with other Thedosian nations, but seem to focus on Orlais.  Many are children of Orlesian fathers and Fereldan mothers.  Even so, we find no evidence of treason or involvement by Eamon, Isolde or their household members.”  Anora looked from her father to Lys, frowned and stated emphatically, “Or of Erlina.”

“The Guerrins have always been a threat.  I don’t argue with that, but you both underestimate Howe’s ambition.  Once Delilah produces Theirin’s no one will be safe.”

Anora’s cheeks colored.  “Meaning?”

“They will be Cailan’s heirs until you and he have a child, Anora.  Howe will control them as he does Thomas.  Delilah and Alistair will be kept at Vigil’s Keep or…disposed of.”

“Maker, Lys, you’re hatred of Howe equals Father’s hatred of Eamon.  I distrust them both, but I think they are loyal Fereldans.  Howe fought with your father in the Rebellion.  Both were heroes.  Eamon fought the Orlesians to regain Redcliffe.”

“Then married the Orlesian Arl’s daughter.  And now both ally themselves with Ferelden’s enemies:  Orlais and Tevinter.”  Lys still stood.

“Lys has a point, Anora.  Howe does have too many dealings with the Magisters, although I think that threatens trade, not Ferelden’s freedom, Lys.  Tevinter does not want Ferelden as a province, unlike Orlais.”  Loghain had calmed and now spoke in a normal voice.  “Nor do I think he will imprison or dispose of Alistair or Delilah.  Nor,” he continued firmly, “will their children inherit the throne.”

Anora sat silent, staring at her hands, which were folded before her.  Loghain started to speak, but she held up had to forestall him.

“Father is right.  Cailan will have an heir, Lys.”  She spoke firmly and deliberately.

Lys eyes widened as she took Anora’s meaning. 

“You’d realize it anyway, once I asked you to take new measurements for the dresses.  I seem to have developed a more ample bosom of late.”

In spite of herself, Lys grinned.  “Anora, that’s wonderful!  How far along?”

“The healer tells me two months.  We’ll keep it secret until it’s necessary to announce it.  Cailan will return from Orlais in Justinian, so perhaps then.”  Anora smiled.  “Father, no commentary please.”

Loghain snorted, but held his tongue.

“I’m so happy for you both.  And, of course, nothing will be said.  We can, however, aid you in disguising your changing figure.”  Still smiling, Lys continued, “a high waist is in style with pleats in the front.  And no soft silks that cling.  You’ll be beautiful, Anora.  I promise.”

 “Lys, I’m sorry about Alistair.”  Anora spoke softly.  “I know you care about him, but you haven’t seen each other for years.  Such things happen, when conditions change.  This solution at least frees him from the Chantry.”

“I understand the politics, Your Majesty.  Howe will hold Amaranthine independently, with Thomas as heir.  Delilah will marry Alistair and bear what Howe hopes will be the next king or queen.  He’ll certainly expect more favor from you and King Cailan.  You must watch him carefully.  Do your ladies know you’re with child?”

“No, only Erlina, but that will change soon, I imagine.  They will notice my body changing.”  She frowned and twisted her ring.  “You think Delilah will tell her father? “

Lys nodded.

“We assume our ladies say more than they should to their families.  I am careful.  You think we should watch for changes in his demeanor.”

“Yes.

“That’s not bad advice, Anora.”  Loghain said.

“No, Father, it’s not.  We will, Lys.” 

“You know Nathaniel is dead?”

Anora sat back in her chair, eyes wide.  Loghain leaned forward.  “When?  No we have not heard of this.” 

“Recently.  He squired with his cousin Felix at their manor outside Markham.  Felix is the son of Rendon Howe’s uncle, Byron.  An attack wiped out the whole family and their guards as they traveled from their city estate to their keep.  The Markham authorities blamed bandits, just like the attack in Highever.  Our sources say Rivaini led mercenaries, again just like Highever.  Felix Howe married a Gitani from Antiva.  The Gitani family is not happy at their daughter’s death.”

Anora’s eyes widened.  “Rivaini led?”

“Just like the others.”

“What others?”  Loghain tilted his head, looking puzzled.

“The attacks on you in Antiva City, on the Haris galley and barge on the Minanter, and on my father in Highever.”

“You think they are related?”

“Possibly, but we don’t know the employer.  Given Nathaniel’s death, Howe becomes more suspect.”

“Pah,” Loghain scoffed.  “Sounds like you stretch the point, Lys.  It’s sad about Nathaniel.  I always thought him a fine boy, but that his father had him killed.  No.  Howe’s many things, but he’s no kinslayer.  And why attack you and me?  Or Bryce, for that matter.  Bryce is his liege, but he won’t prevent Howe from changing allegiance according to Ferelden custom.  Your father has no influence, sad as that is.”

Lys bit her bottom lip until it hurt.  She stopped before drawing blood.  “Perhaps you’re right.”  Lys went to the side table to gather the fabric samples and designs she planned to show Anora and Loghain.  “Will you excuse me a moment, I seem to have left a few samples behind.”  She slipped through the doorway to the storerooms. 

Kai curtsied and followed.  She found Lys, hands clenched at her side, leaning against the wall, head raised, looking at the ceiling.  She was taking deep breaths.  Kai reached out and placed her hand on Lys’ arm.

“I’ll be fine.  I just need to compose myself.  Giving Howe control of Alistair is as bad as giving him to Eamon, the Chantry and Orlais.  Delilah’s a nice girl, away from her father, but she’ll do whatever Howe asks of her.  It’s not that he has to be with me.  I want him safe, Kai.  Is that so much to ask?”

“No.”

Lys relaxed and looked at Kai.  “Why can’t they see Howe for what he is?  Loghain can’t see beyond Eamon and Orlais.  They’re both dangerous.  Anora believes she can manage Howe.  Howe lets her think that.  She likes Delilah.  Neither believes Tevinter is a threat. 

The Magisters are blood mages, for Maker’s sake.  Blood mages openly here in Ferelden.  And no one, not even the Chantry, notices?”  She threw up her hands.  “I give up, Kai.  I can’t convince them.”  She picked up a letter she had written to Alistair at Loghain’s suggestion.  He finally planned to visit Dragon’s Peak later in Drakonis the Teyrn said.  She and Kai returned to the show room.   

 “You’re both very busy, I’m sure.  We should look at these samples so can choose and get on with your day.”  She put the letter to Alistair on the table next to Teyrn Loghain.

**9:28 Dragon  12 Drakonis  ===  Redcliffe House, Denerim**

“You need to move the boy from Dragon’s Peak, Husband.  There is great concern that the Revered Mother and Knight-Captain coddle him.  We need a tractable boy, not an unruly one.  He needs discipline and punishment.”

“I am well aware of that, Isolde.  The Grand Cleric and I meet in a few days to devise a solution.  A plan will be in place before Cailan, Teagan and I leave for Orlais.”

“There is another issue.  The Queen is with child.”

“What!  How could that happen?  Has Erlina neglected her duties?”

“No, husband.  We wanted her to conceive.”  Isolde and Sister Eleutheria sat in the Denerim Estate salon having tea.  “She will lose it shortly.  We could not wish for better timing.”

“I don’t understand, Isolde.”

“Erlina’s tea will cause her to lose it,” the Sister explained.  “The sad event will happen just before you leave for Orlais.  Teagan can console Cailan en route.  You can plant the thought that Anora cannot bear him a child, then let Teagan and Cailan discuss it.  Once Cailan understands that, no matter how much he cares for Anora, she will not bear him a child, he will be ready to receive the Empress’ gifts and proposals.  It’s fortunate Teagan also enjoys the favors of Orlesian noblewomen.  He’ll set a fine example, so you won’t have to.  He and Cailan will have a fine time in Orlais, while you work.”

“I’ll speak with Teagan-“

“-no you fool,” Sister Eleutheria snapped.  “Teagan can only be effective if he does not know we use him.  His honesty is our best weapon.  Subtlety Eamon.  Do you think you can manage that?”

Eamon scowled at the Sister, “I’ll manage it.”

**9:28 Dragon  Cloudreach  ===  On the Waking Sea**

Kai found Lys curled up on the deck resting her head on Sherpa’s side.  She sat beside them.

“I know you’re not asleep, Lys Cousland.”

“I don’t want to spar or do forms, Kai.”

“You believe thinking will fix anything?”

“No.”

“The get up!”

“Kai, I’m just tired of not being able to fix anything.  Papa.  Alistair.  Nothing’s right.  And I know Howe and Eamon are to blame.  We just can’t find out what they’re doing.  We know Howe has Magisters, but we see no blood magic or mind control.  We know his income has increased, but we don’t know from what trade.  We suspect he’s slaving, but can’t find the slave ships.  He has an orphanage near Vigil’s Keep, but it seems legitimate.  I suspect he’s using a maze of old smugglers’ tunnels under the Vigil.  I have a map of them, but we can’t get access.  He’s too good at covering his tracks.  There’s a maze of tunnels under Denerim as well.  He probably uses them too.

“And Eamon!  He’s trying to keep the Chantry in control of Alistair.  He probably works with Grand Cleric Elemena on behalf of Orlais.  Sister Eleutheria’s surely a Bard, but we can’t prove it.  I think Erlina reports to him or Eleutheria somehow.  Pippa says she’s very devout, so maybe through the Chantry.  I’ve even wonder if Erlina gives Anora something to prevent pregnancy.  If she has, it didn’t work.” 

“Then there’s Howe’s new mistress.  It’s said she’s Orlesian as well, although you would think Howe would be suspicious of that. Unless he and Eamon work together, but that seems unlikely.”

Lys pounded her fist on the deck.  “We see the pieces, but we can’t put them together.  We watch in Orlais, in Ferelden and in Nevarra, the Marches, Rivain and Antiva.  All this intelligence comes to us, but we see only shards and slivers.  No wonder Loghain and Anora don’t believe Eamon will betray Ferelden or see the danger from Howe.  The picture remains too fragmented.”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques. 
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her keen eyes and excellent suggestions. Any errors are mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followedand those who Reviewed recently: Eastern Violet, clafount, Mike3207, nh09jrb and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. Knowing others enjoy Lys, Alistair, Loghain and their companions keeps me going.


	45. Though the Darkness Comes Upon Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:28 Dragon Drakonis --- Dragon's Peak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

 “Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

 **Chapter 45–** **Though the Darkness Comes Upon Me**

 

 

* * *

**9** **:28 Dragon   23 Drakonis  ===  Dragon’s Peak Monastery**

The jagged silhouette of Dragon’s Peak stood against the clear dawn sky.  Prime bells had rung some time ago, but the sun remained hidden behind the mountain.  Loghain walked from the Dragon’s Rest Inn to the Monastery Gate.  Happenstance trotted at his side.  The crisp morning provided a welcome contrast to the damp and chill of the previous day.

The ride from Denerim had been wet and slow.  Arriving late, Loghain had spoken with Knight-Captain Aaron just before Compline bells, but asked the templar not to announce his visit to Alistair.  Loghain wasn’t even sure the boy knew he had returned.  Eamon would not have mentioned it, but Teagan might have.  His visit was long overdue.  He shook his head, recalling the arguments over acknowledging Alistair.  Again, he would visit with no good news for the boy.  Fortunately, his right to visit Alistair had never been revoked when Eamon and Teagan were added.  He suspected it was an oversight prompted by his absence.    

Alistair walked to the Knight–Captain’s study, unsure of what to expect.  He had broken no rules and played no pranks recently.  He had no idea why Knight-Captain Aaron had summoned him.  He entered the study and found Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir sitting with the Knight-Captain.

He knew Teyrn Loghain had returned, empty handed, from his search for King Maric.  He had not expected to see the Teyrn here.  Only Teagan and sometimes Eamon visited him now.  They constantly berated him, telling him he must improve his behavior, study harder and not embarrass them.  Threats of moving him to a less prestigious monastery often followed the reprimands.  Eamon belittled him more than Teagan did, but anyone who listened to them must think him a failure by now.  Had Loghain allied with them?  Perhaps he was here to take him away.  Loghain had been the messenger last time.

“Teyrn Loghain…Your Grace” Alistair said, bowing and quickly hiding his surprise.  “Knight–Captain Aaron.”  Alistair saluted .

“Initiate Alistair, the Teyrn has come to visit you.  You are excused from class and duties until the Teyrn leaves.  You may accompany him to the Dragon’s Rest and stay there.  You may choose to wear civilian clothes.  Go pack your things and return here.”

“Ser.  Your Grace.”  Alistair saluted again, spun around and left. 

He returned to his sleeping alcove.  As a senior initiate, he had one of the alcoves that ringed the initiates’ dormitory.  The cubicle could be closed off with a curtain affording some privacy.  A shelf, table, small chest and single bed stood inside the enclosure.  He would be allowed to display and use personal items, had he not sent them away long ago.  He looked at the empty shelf remembering his books, his figurines and the map Teyrn Loghain had given him.  _Lys Cousland probably still has them.  It would be like her to keep them safe.  I’d only be teased about the figurines anyway._

He stuffed three days’ worth of clothes and personal items into his pack, then added some ink, quills, parchment, a book he was reading and clean arming clothes.  Before he left he reached into his chest, lifted a piece of the bottom and retrieved a scrap of parchment hidden beneath.  He put the parchment inside his tunic.  _I don’t know why I’m taking this.  I wonder what the punishment is for disobeying a Grand Cleric?_  

He would go into the village in his armor and change there.  He looked around his small space.  He had everything he might need.  For all he knew he was about to be arrested and transported to Fort Drakon or some other monastery.  _There might be a contingent of King’s Guard waiting outside the gate.  Why is Loghain here?_

He returned to the Knight-Captain’s study.

“Your Grace,” Alistair bowed as he entered.  “I’m ready.”

 _He’s as tall as I am.  Still needs to fill out, but he’s probably strong._   “You’re wondering why in I’m here.”

“It has been some time since your last visit, Your Grace.”

Loghain suppressed a grin.  “Your talent for understatement has not changed.”

Alistair flushed, glancing at the Knight-Captain, not sure if the Teyrn meant his remark as a reprimand. 

“I should have come sooner, but after two years…well I suppose I was reluctant to face you after such a long time.”

“I heard you searched for King Maric.  I’m sorry you found nothing, Your Grace.  I know he was your friend.”

Loghain acknowledged the condolences with a nod.  “Let’s go Alistair.  You can change at the inn, then we’ll take a ride.  I’ve a fine horse for you to try.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.”  The two left the study.

“Hap, who had waited by the entrance, jumped up to join them.”

Alistair stopped.  “Is that your mabari?”

“It is.  Hap, this is Alistair, the boy I told you about.  Alistair, this is Happenstance or Hap.”  The mabari wagged his stub of a tail and liked the hand Alistair offered. 

“You’re a handsome boy, Hap.”  He scratched him behind the ears. 

Alistair stood and they walked to the Dragon’s Rest.  Hap looked from one to the other, but neither spoke to alleviate the awkward silence between them.  When they got to Loghain’s rooms, he pointed Alistair to the smaller of the two bedrooms as Hap curled up in front of the hearth. 

“You have that one, as usual.  Change, while I order the inn keep to pack us some food.  When you’re ready, meet me at the stables.”

Alistair walked to the stables to find Loghain speaking to the hostler.  Loghain held the leads to two fine horses.  The black appeared to be Loghain’s and the other, a chestnut with black mane and stockings, must be for him.  Hap sat patiently at Loghain’s side. 

“Alistair, this is Caradoc, my new stallion.  Your horse is Hafter, a gelding also from the Royal stables.  He was King Maric’s favorite horse…well, at least the one he fell off the least.  I thought I might leave him for you ride within the monastery grounds.  The Knight-Captain had no objection.” 

Alistair lost his impassivity at that news and showed surprise.

“I see.  Thank you for bringing him, Your Grace.”  He smiled, remembering Loghain’s stories of his father falling off horses from years ago in Redcliffe.

“You do remember how to ride?”  Loghain regarded the boy with his eyebrow raised.

“I think so, Your Grace, although it’s been a while.”  He threw a sidelong glance at Loghain, reminding the Teyrn of his father, then mounted Hafter.  “I’ll try to stay on.” 

Loghain snorted and mounted Caradoc.  “Hap you can join us today.” 

Hap bounced to his feet and bounded after the riders.

They took a short ride to the Peak that first day.  Loghain tried to recapture some of the easy camaraderie he had shared with a younger Alistair.  Seventeen-year-old Alistair did not cooperate.  Oh, he was polite, played along with the war games Loghain proposed, did well, carried on polite conversation and generally did nothing to offend.  As a youth Alistair, like his father, had chattered, joked, smiled, but no longer.  This serious young man showed no anger, but his cool politeness and humor had an edge

 _Seventeen, almost eighteen._   _Maric was eighteen when we met.  Alistair has hazel eyes and darker hair, but in so many ways he looks like that bloody, lost young man I met in the forest all those years ago.  He even has Maric’s gestures.  How does that happen?  I expected Alistair to act like Maric, but he doesn’t._  

On the second day they rode southeast around Dragon’s Peak to the sea cliffs.  They wore their arming clothes and leather jerkins.  It was a ride they had taken many years before.  Once there, Loghain suggested they spar.  

Alistair’s eyes narrowed.  “Is that wise?  We’re out here all alone.  If one of us gets hurt, there’s no help, Your Grace.”

“I have potions and poultices.  We’ll manage.  Unless you intend me harm?”

“No.  I intend no one harm,” the boy replied quietly.

“Nor do I, Alistair.  We’ve sparred before.  This is no different.”

Alistair took the blunted sword Loghain offered.  They squared off.  It was a long battle, for they were quite evenly matched.  Although the same height, Loghain weighed perhaps twenty pounds more than Alistair.  Alistair made up for the weight difference by being quicker and more agile.  Loghain taunted him a bit, trying to get him to vent his anger.  Alistair did for a time, then collected himself.  After a while, Alistair became so intent on besting Loghain, he forgot his anger and just focused on the fight.  Thrust, parry, sidestep, lunge, bash, withdraw, and repeat.  He could see Loghain was tiring; a thought flitted through his mind.  _He won’t expect that,_ he thought as he stepped back, gathered his strength and smote the Teyrn.  Loghain stumbled from the force of the smite.  Alistair followed up with a shield bash, throwing the off balance Teyrn to the ground.  He put his sword to Loghain’s throat. 

“Yield.”

Loghain laughed, with some difficulty.  “I yield.  I take it that was a templar skill?”

“Yes.  Meant to strip mages of their mana – their power to cast magic, but the force affects anyone physically.  I’m rather good at, it at least for an initiate.  Or so I’m told.”

“Well, it seemed to work on me.”

“You were tiring.  It would have been far less effective earlier in the fight.”  He reached out to help Loghain up.  The Teyrn took his hand and stood.

“Good tactics.”  Loghain squeezed his shoulder.  “You fought well and won.  I’m glad.”

“You’re glad?”

“It means you’ve been training.  Of course, I’m glad.”

“Right.  I’m quite good at all my skills.  And my academics.  It’s my attitude that needs improvement, as I’m sure the Knight-Captain told you.  However, it keeps the vows at bay for now.”  He turned to stow their weapons.  “Should we get back?”

“It’s a long ride.  We should.”  Loghain stood still, frowning.  “What do you mean ‘keep the vows at bay’?  It was never intended that you take vows, Alistair.”

“Tell that to Arl Eamon and King Cailan, Your Grace.  I’m told I’m to be assigned permanently to Kinloch Hold, once I take vows.  Arl Eamon says King Cailan and the Grand Cleric agree.  They’re only waiting for me to break, to stop being a ‘miscreant’ according to the Arl.  Even Teagan tells me to accept the inevitable.  I’m not even to be made a knight.”  He frowned.  “Surely you know this.”

“No, Alistair I don’t.  We, Anora and I, argued for Cailan to acknowledge you at the Little Landsmeet in Guardian.”

Alistair gave the Teyrn a sidelong stare, lips compressed.  “And yet, here I am.  Not acknowledged.”

They mounted the horses and set off at a walk.

“I can’t prove my intentions to you, Alistair.  Eamon has far too much influence with Cailan.  I thought Anora and Fergus, even Howe, would mitigate Eamon’s influence, but it seems I was wrong.  I was mistaken about many things.”  He rode in silence for a time.  “Lys and Eleanor both warned me, when I saw them in Antiva City.  I didn’t listen.  It’s a fault.  One Maric often pointed out.  I hear only what I want or expect to hear.  I’m sorry Alistair.  I failed Anora, Bryce and you and, perhaps, Cailan most of all.”  He frowned.  “How often does Eamon visit?”

“Too often,”  Alistair blurted, then gave Loghain a worried glance.  Loghain’s laugh  told him he had not offended the Teyrn.  “I was away on exercises and not available the second time he came.  At least that’s what Revered Mother Hilda told him.  That only worked once.  Since then, he sends word ahead  and requires me to be available.  Sometimes he sends Teagan in his place.  He seems to think I’m some sort of criminal, when all I do is play pranks and pretty innocuous ones at that.”

“Indeed.  So the Revered Mother and Knight-Captain tell me.  They seem to like you.  Of course,”  Loghain smiled, “you are cursed with the Theirin charm.”

“I’m… the what?”

Loghain reached over and squeezed his arm.  “It’s a good thing, most of the time, although Cailan could do with a bet less of it.  It just means most people tend to like you, want to follow you and please you.”

“Most people…so it doesn’t always work?”

Loghain laughed.  “No.  Sometimes it’s annoying.  Your father could be endlessly annoying on some days.”

Alistair didn’t speak for a time as they rode.  He stared ahead at the trail, sitting stiffly on his saddle. 

“It doesn’t work on Arl Eamon.  Never has with him or Arlessa Isolde.  Maybe a little with Teagan,” he admitted.  “They’re not happy with me.  The Arl and Arlessa never have been.

“The Revered Mother and Knight-Captain take the brunt of the Guerrin’s complaints.  They try to make it easier on me, but they can’t defy a direct order from the Grand Cleric.  I asked to become a brother.  I could be content as a brother, I think.  I’d be safely locked away doing things I enjoy.  I like teaching, working in the library or in the Scriptorium.  Revered Mother Hilda said no.  Apparently Grand Cleric Elemena thinks I’m destined by Andraste to be a templar.  So a templar I’ll be.”

“Anora and Cailan will meet with the Grand Cleric to set things straight.  Eamon over steps himself in this.”  

For the remainder of their ride they discussed the terrain and battle tactics as they rode.  Loghain was impressed with Alistair’s grasp  of tactics and strategy and asked him about his training.

“Oh, templars aren’t trained in battle strategy and tactics, Your Grace.  I read to understand military history and strategy.  There’s a fine library, as you might recall.”  He hesitated, glancing at the Teyrn riding beside him, “I missed our training sessions, so I found books and, sometimes, I hike out into the monastery lands and practice.”

Loghain rubbed his neck.  “I am sorry Alistair.  I…being gone so long was a mistake.  I can’t change it.  I can only try to do what is right now.”

“That’s fair I suppose,” Alistair replied quietly.

“So what do templars train for?” 

“To track and control mages, apostates and maleficars.  My map reading skills are excellent.  Without a map, however, most templars are lost.  We don’t learn to read the terrain and remember it, as you taught me to do.  No teaches how to navigate by the stars.  I suspect some apostates realize the limitations and go to unmapped lands in the  Brecilian Forest, the Korcari Wilds or the Frostbacks in spite of the dangers there.  I asked why we don’t learn study the terrain and the stars.  The question wasn’t received well.  It seems a map and a phylactery are all we need.”

Loghain snorted.  “Well, at least you realize the importance.  A phylactery?”

“A vial of the mage’s blood.  It’s been treated somehow and provides indications which help track the mage.”

“Chantry secrets, I take it?”

Alistair nodded.

“You won’t need  phylacteries in the Guard.  You will make a fine soldier.”

“Will make?”

“I intend to keep your father’s promise to you.  You won’t become a templar.  I don’t care what Eamon or Elemena intend.”

“So you plan to break me out of here?  Send me off to the Free Marches or Nevarra to hide.  Maybe I can join a mercenary company.”  Alistair’s skeptical tone told Loghain he did not believe the Teyrn could fulfill his promise.

Loghain pulled up on Caradoc.  “I plan to encourage Cailan to follow through on his plan to acknowledge you, Alistair.  Making you a fugitive accomplishes nothing.”

Alistair halted.  “Sorry if I’m skeptical, Your Grace.  I realize the Queen is your daughter, but she and the Grand Cleric were quite adamant that I would stay in the templars.  The Grand Cleric’s letter spoke plainly.  What makes you think you can change her mind?”

“Anora?  She wanted you safe and for a while that meant staying at Dragon’s Peak, but she wants you acknowledged too.  And not as a templar.  It’s important.  It was to your father.  It is to me.”

“So you return and everything changes?”

“I promised Maric I would watch over you and I haven’t.  It’s time for me to keep that promise.”  Loghain rubbed his neck.  _I need to explain myself to him or he’ll never believe a thing I say._

“I lost…a brother, Alistair.  I think you know that.  We fought, we disagreed, we betrayed each other and we loved each other.  He was your age when I met him.  I found a ragged, bloody, scared boy running away from the men who had betrayed and murdered his mother as he watched.  Queen Moira, your grandmother, died telling him to run and probably believing that he would be killed too, but he didn’t die.  He fought and ran and got away. 

“My life changed that day.  I gained a brother.  When he disappeared, I broke.  I should have stayed and helped Cailan and Anora learn to rule together.  I should have made sure Bryce Cousland returned to favor.  I should have seen you acknowledged.  Instead I ran away to search for a dis…a dead man.  He would be angry with me for failing you and Cailan.  He once told me that it was Ferelden, not him, that was important.  I forgot that and broke my word to him.  I won’t do that again.”

Alistair rode quietly for a long time.    

“When I sailed,” Loghain finally continued, “Cailan and Anora were left with Arls Howe and Guerrin as their advisors.  Bryland, Wulff, Eremon and others try to provide balance, but Ceorlic and Kendall support Howe.  Franderel plays them all against each other.  Anora administers well, but always has to worry about Arls Guerrin and Howe plotting.  Cailan can’t seem to select a course he believes in.  Everything he does is in reaction to, and often the opposite of, the advice he’s given or the course Anora wants to take.  It should have been Bryce and me advising Cailan and Anora, but that did not happen and I am to blame.”

“It can’t be fixed?”

“Eamon is Cailan’s Chancellor now, as you probably know and he meddles, mostly to increase Orlesian influence.  He can act without Anora’s knowledge or Cailan’s since Cailan has no interest in detail.  He’s careful to make it seem like he acts at Cailan’s order, but Anora and I fear he does more than we know behind the scenes.  Then there’s Howe who influences Cailan in order to increase his power.  The only good news is that Cailan has reconciled with Fergus Cousland, although he still leaves Bryce in disfavor.  We can only hope Fergus becomes an advisor as well, but one aligned with Anora and me.”  Loghain shook his head.  “It’s a mess.”

Alistair rode on in silence. 

Loghain changed the subject.  “You didn’t ask about Lys.  I saw her in Antiva City a year ago.  She’s working most of the year in Nevarra with House Haris.  She’s become an agent, learning how to negotiate contracts and loans for House Haris.  She’s quite good, apparently.  Trains with the mercenary company too.  Hrothgar’s Wrath, I think it’s called.”

Alistair smiled.  “That sounds like Lys.  She said she wanted to do that in her letters years ago.”

“She hasn’t married.  Nor is she betrothed.  Refuses to be apparently.”  He handed Alistair a sealed packet.  “One letter is recent, the other older.  She wrote the first one in Antiva City, hoping I’d return to Ferelden one day to deliver it.  She tried very hard to…as you say…fix things.  Make us keep Maric’s promise.  When I left Antiva City to search further, she was very angry with me.  Even so, she provided maps, charts and a rutter for our voyage north.  She probably saved our lives.  She’s become a wonderful young woman, Alistair.  And she hasn’t forgotten you.”

Alistair took the packet and put it in his belt pouch.  They soon rode into the courtyard of the inn.  The hostler took the horses and they went to speak to the innkeeper where Loghain ordered baths for them both and dinner to follow.  Retrieving a change of clothes, they made their way to the bathhouse.  Meeting again in the apartment, Alistair saw the meal set out.  Hap gnawed a bone by the fire.  After their meal and a brief chess game, they went to their separate rooms. 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Alistair stood at the window of his bedroom looking out and wondering again why Loghain bothered with him.  His explanation sounded plausible.  Loghain was not one to speak as openly as he had.  While he tended to believe Loghain’s reasons for being here, he doubted Loghain’s ability to change anything.  He still believed Grand Cleric Elemena’s threat.  Given the Chantry’s power, Alistair preferred the idea of being a lyrium addled templar to imprisonment or death.

He pulled out the letter from Lys.  He could not quite bring himself to throw it into the fire.  _She tried to help.  At least one person thought of me._ Curiosity impelled him to read it.  When he opened the sealed packet he found the two letters.  He read the recent one first.

**9:28 Dragon  3 Drakonis**

_Dear Alistair,_

_Loghain tells me he has my letter from Antiva City to give to you when he visits.  It’s been so long.  How can I summarize three years?  I am well.  I live and work in Nevarra most of the year with House Haris.  I return each Wintermarch to visit the Rasiae clan with my friend Kai and then spend time with my family in Highever.  After our birthdays (Mum’s and mine) Cousin Sam and I go to Denerim to the Haris compound to work.  I love my work, but miss Highever and everyone there and you._

_Papa and Mum no longer go to Denerim.  Fergus and Oriana represent the family at Court now.  King Cailan simply won’t forgive Papa for opposing him.  It’s very sad.  Papa has trouble understanding why King Cailan can’t forgive him.  He and I work together on mining projects, but he’s not the same.  Mum remains stalwart as always.  She enjoys her garden, Oren, her grandson, and working with Arlessa Alys and the guilds._

_My life is very predictable, but not boring.  It’s all trade, contracts, and negotiations.  No adventures.  No excitement.  I do still train and sometimes work with the Wrath in Nevarra.  My archery and blade skills improve each year, but so do Kai’s.  She still bests me when we spar.  She and Sherpa are my best friends now that Pippa is Queen Anora’s lady and you are so far away._

_I’m sorry.  This is such a boring letter.  I don’t know what else to say.  I hope you are well.  If it matters to you, I love you.  Or who I think you have become.  We don’t really know each anymore, do we?  If you still have the family looks, I might recognize you if we met.  You would probably walk right by me without a second glance.  I’m rather ordinary looking, I’m afraid.  I am glad Loghain will visit you.  I’ve been very angry with him, but perhaps he will succeed in setting things right.  I hope so._

_Always.  Your Lys._

Alistair sat on the edge of his bed for a while just staring at the letter.  It held only hints of the warm girl he had known.  She sounded as tired of games and false hopes as he felt.  Alistair picked up the older letter and fingered the seal.  _Why even read this?_   Loghain told him it Lys had written it in Antiva City when they met there during Loghain’s search for Maric.  He closed his eyes, sighed, then opened them and slid his thumb under the seal.

**9:26 Dragon   2 Justinian**

_Dear Alistair,_

_I’ve left Ferelden to work for House Haris in Nevarra since King Maric disappeared.  Everything seems to have gone wrong since the Demelza sailed.  At least working with Cousin Samuel keeps me busy and not thinking too much about what I can’t fix.  We’re in Antiva City now, but I’ll go back and tell you how we got here._

_Kai and I traveled with a Haris shipment from Nevarra City down the Minanter River.  We stopped at all the major trading ports on the way.  Each one is different.  We traveled on a galley, which accompanied a barge carrying most of the cargo.  A troop of Hrothgar’s Wrath traveled along with us on shore to protect against bandits and slavers.  I worked as one of the House Haris junior agents.  Some days Kai and I rode with the Wrath._

_Kai, as you might remember, is my friend, companion and, when needed, lady’s maid.  We sailed through desert, mountains, forests and large cities.  The Minanter voyage includes traversing a score or more locks before and after Starkhaven as the river descends to the Amaranthine Ocean.  It’s fascinating to watch the locks work raising and lowering the boats as the river descends.  Just after we passed the last lock, bandits attacked but we drove them off.  I used my bow from the galley’s deck.  I think my arrows found their marks._

_From Bastion at the mouth of the Minanter, we boarded a ship and sailed to Antiva City where Kai and I met Mum and Oriana.  Maker, you must be confused  – I forget you don’t know these people.  Oriana Falanni is Fergus’ wife.  Mum, Oriana, her son Oren (my nephew) and I are visiting Oriana’s family, the Falanni.  Then Loghain showed up.  We met him, quite unexpectedly, in the market.  His ship needed refitting and Antiva City has the largest shipyard in Thedas._

_While the Mabari Rampant is in the yard, his crew will resupply for the rest of the voyage.  Loghain’s intends to head north soon.  He won’t return to Ferelden yet, although Mum and I tried to persuade him to.  I have no idea if you will ever see this letter._

_I do have some…disturbing news.  I’ve been blooded.  I killed in battle this week.  Mercenaries attacked us – Loghain, my friends Kai and Zev, some guards the Falanni provided to us and me – on our way from the Haris fondaco or compound in Antiva City to Oriana’s family home.  We beat them off, but I killed a man and wounded several others with my blades.  It was…disconcerting, disturbing…I can’t find the right word.  Frightening perhaps, in the sense that I found I could kill a man.  It’s so similar to and yet so different than sparring with a challenging partner.  I’ve never felt anything like it before.  I could easily live without experiencing it again._

_Knowing you must kill an adversary or be killed yourself...it does drive you to do what’s necessary.  As soon as the attack began, my training kicked in and I didn’t feel anything until afterwards, which Loghain tells me is good.  It helped that he and Kai were here to talk to me when it was over.  Mum too.  I forget she was a battle maiden during the Rebellion.  I still get a knot in my stomach when I think of it.  The feel of the blade in his flesh, the smell of blood, the sounds…it was awful.  Much worse than using a bow.  I’ve done that too, when our boat was attacked on the Minanter.  I might have killed one of the bandits that night, but, as an archer, I won’t know.  Blades make it seem so personal._

_Well this is a cheerful letter isn’t it?  I’m just not sure how to put years of my life into a brief letter.  I should tell you that Antiva City is beautiful.  It’s been an amazing experience from its start in Cumberland, through the Minanter voyage, to the visit with the Falanni and the work in the fondaco here.  I thought of you a lot.  I always do._

_Kai can always tell when I’m thinking of you.  She says I get my Ali stare.  I know.  Awful pun, but that’s what she intends to get my attention.  She’s very funny (or thinks she is), but she knows me all too well.  I do stare off into space and tend not to see or hear what’s going on around me.  I think I did that a lot at night on the Emerald Queen as we sailed down the Minanter.  Staring at the stars and wishing you were there too.  Sometimes I could almost hear your voice making some silly remark or clever comment.  Some days I miss you so much it hurts.  I miss Papa and Fergus and Loghain, when I’m not furious with him, but I miss you most._

_Ali, I don’t know what else to say.  I’m staying in Nevarra now, unless Papa forbids it.  He’s in Highever, in disfavor.  Loghain is off to Maker knows where north of here following a ghost.  I am so angry with him…I destroyed a practice dummy.  Anora and Cailan are all alone with Eamon and Howe circling the throne.  I only hope Loghain comes to his senses and returns soon.  I hope even more that you are well and safe._

_I miss you.  I love you.  Always._

_Always Your, Lys_

He found tears running down his face.  He hadn’t cried for his father or himself…until now.  _How can she do that?_ He had not seen her for eight years, but he could almost hear her voice as he read her words.They were so…so Lys.  _But she wrote the letter from Antiva two years ago.  The recent letter doesn’t convey those feelings.  She’s protecting herself, just like I am.  She doesn’t believe we’ll see each again._  He crawled under the covers of the bed, sobs shaking his body until sleep finally took him.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The next morning he packed his belongings before he went out to the common room.  Loghain was already seated at the table. 

“Good morning, Your Grace.”

“Good morning, Alistair.  I thought we might ride out again today,  but you’re wearing your templar armor.”

“I appreciate the visit, Your Grace, but I should get back to my duties, I think. 

Loghain looked taken aback.  “I had thought you would return on the morrow, Alistair.”

“I believe you and the Knight-Captain agreed, Your Grace, but I wasn’t asked.  I have obligations to the younger initiates.  I don’t want to disappoint them.”

“I can’t argue with your sense of duty.  It’s early yet; you can at least have breakfast.”  Loghain’s mouth quirked up as he almost smiled.  “There’s cheese.  A good Gwaren hard cheese and fine dark bread.”

“Yes, Your Grace, I can.”  Alistair sat, relieved that Teyrn Loghain offered no further argument,

When they finished their silent meal, Loghain walked out to the Inn’s courtyard with Alistair. 

“I’ll come back in a month or two.  I hope to have good news by then.”

“I’m sorry, Your Grace, but I won’t be counting on that.  I’ve given up on promises.  I think your efforts on my behalf may end up with me imprisoned or executed.  I’d rather be a templar, if those are the other options.  I’m not inclined to adopt false hopes any longer.” 

“Imprisoned or executed?  Why would you think that!”

Alistair surprised him by responding angrily.  “Why wouldn’t I?  I should have obeyed Arlessa Isolde and Arl Eamon and never spoken to Lady Melysande Cousland.  All I got from you and the Couslands were  
false promises and a few years of false hope.”

“Alistair-”

“-Stop!  I’ve always been the inconvenient bastard.  I’ve never understood why King Maric didn’t just deny me.  Making me Arl Eamon’s ward put me exactly nowhere.  I’m neither commoner nor noble.  I’m nothing.  Why would anyone do that to a child, what the King did to me?  Why not leave me at a Chantry far away from Denerim with a few silvers for my care?  I’d have been anonymous.  No threat to anyone, with no idea of what other options existed.  I could have become a Brother.  A teacher.  A librarian.  An illustrator.  A scribe.  I could have had a life.  Who would notice me in a Chantry, even if I did look like the King?  People far from Denerim never see the King.   

“My life here is tolerable.  I have friends and no one wonders why the great Hero of River Dane pays attention to a bastard.”  He saw Loghain frown.  “You think no one recognizes you?  It doesn’t matter if Teagan or Arl Eamon visit.  No one knows who they are, but every knows you. 

“When I arrived all those years ago, escorted by you, everyone hated me.  The commoners resented me because they thought I was a noble’s bastard.  The nobles resented me because they knew I was a commoner’s bastard.  The templars resented me because I was a bastard and someone showed me favor.  I have no idea why the Revered Mother hated me…well I do, because I was an impious bastard…but she didn’t know that when I arrived.

“Then you came with the Queen, well Lady Anora at the time, and everything was fixed.  Once the Knight-Captain and Revered Mother accepted me everyone else did too.  I was no longer bullied.  I made friends, even became a defender of other pages and initiates.    

“Revered Mother Hilda seems to like me.  Knight-Captain Aaron treats me fairly.  The other initiates are my friends who appreciate all the clever pranks I dream up. If I use humor, I rarely have to fight; if I do fight, I can bash most opponents into submission.  I’m just another initiate here.”

“I spoke with Knight-Captain Aaron, Alistair.  You’re the most talented sword and shield wielder of all the initiates.  And apparently good with templar skills, as well.  What most impresses him, however, is your ability to lead your comrades, even in pranks.  He thinks you’ll make a fine officer.”

“More likely I’ll be a great mage killer.  They’ll make me the permanent sword wielder at every Harrowing.”

“The what?”

“No matter.  More Chantry secrets.”  Alistair took a few deep breaths and ran his hand through his hair. 

Loghain flinched, he looked so much like his father. 

“Even when you all abandoned me after the king’s death, how I was treated here didn’t change that much.  What changed was the attention the Grand Cleric paid to me.  She made it clear in her letter that I would be executed or imprisoned if I left Dragon’s Peak.  Eamon and Teagan have simply underscored the Grand Cleric’s message.  Revered Mother Hilda let me know that becoming a brother was not an option for me when I asked.  I’m to be a templar. 

“Now you show up and tell me none of that is true.  Well, excuse me if I don’t believe you.” 

They had been speaking in hisses and whispers.  They moved toward the village center and Monastery Gate. 

“Look I’m sorry if I seem ungrateful,” Alistair took a deep, if ragged, breath and spoke in a normal tone.  “I do appreciate your visit…even after all this time.  I just...I don’t believe anything will change, Teyrn Loghain.  I appreciate the education here, I understand why I had to leave Redcliffe, but now it all seems so hopeless.  I just wanted to be a normal boy and I couldn’t be.  I won’t be a normal man.  If I don’t die young, I’ll end up a lyrium-addled fool in a monastery in Orlais.  It’s not the future I would choose, but it’s the one I have.

“I’ve acquired the skills they want me to have, but I put off vows by not acting the part.  I lead my friends in pranks.  I play the clown.  The fool.  I excel at scrubbing pots you know.  The librarian appreciates my help when they let me serve there.  I’m the best-read templar initiate in Monastery history, I suspect.  I’m not even sure why I put it off.  It’s inevitable.  I suppose I like the illusion of control.” 

“Alistair, your father never intended that you become a templar.  Cailan can and will acknowledge you.  The Grand Cleric will honor her agreement with Maric.” 

“Right and pigs will fly.  Why?  Why would King Cailan bother?  It’s not to his benefit.  Grand Cleric Elemena made my position quite clear in her letter after my fath….King Maric disapp…died-

“-you keep mentioning a letter…what letter?”

Alistair shook his head.  “The one the Grand Cleric sent after she and Queen Anora decided my future.  You were gone by then.  The sister who brought it said I had to burn it.  The letter said I would stay in the Chantry and become a templar.  I would never be acknowledged.  If I left – she called it escape – I would  be branded a traitor and imprisoned for life or executed.”

“Elemena sent a letter saying that?”

“You don’t believe me.”  He slipped a hand inside his tunic and pulled out a small square of parchment.  “I kept it.  I burned another scrap of parchment along with the seals to fool the sister.”

Loghain unfolded the letter, noting the traces of wax and ribbon, and read with growing disbelief. 

Alistair watched Loghain’s face.  Loghain’s eyes widened and then narrowed as his brow furrowed.   Upon finishing, he crumpled the letter in his fist and glared at it.  Alistair would have flinched if he thought Loghain’s glare was intended for him.  _He’s not faking his reaction_ , _but that doesn’t mean the King and Queen_ _disagree with the Grand Cleric._

“I don’t believe for a moment Anora or Cailan knew of this.  This has Eamon’s interference all over it.  Anora does not think you threaten the throne, Alistair.  Nor do she and Cailan want you to be a templar.  She has argued for your acknowledgement for years.  Nothing they’ve said since I returned indicates they want this.”  He paused.  “…Eamon on the other hand.”

“It sounded like they did.  Isn’t Arl Eamon King Cailan’s Chancellor?  He may have spoken to the Grand Cleric for King Cailan.”

Loghain sighed.  “Or without Cailan’s knowledge.”

“Does the reason matter when the outcome is the same?  I’ll still be templar locked in Kinloch Hold, as much a prisoner as the mages I guard.”

“Why do you say that?  Templars go to Chantries.  Some even marry.”

“I’ve been told that’s where I’ll be sent.  I’ve been there once.  It is a prison for mages and templars alike.  You’ve been there, haven’t you?  I honestly fear what I will become if I’m there too long.  Power can be frightening thing, you know.  Those templars have complete power over the mages.”

“Who told you that your assignment would be the Circle Tower?”

“Arl Eamon.”

Loghain’s eyes narrowed as he stopped abruptly.  “Eamon does not decide your fate, Alistair.  Neither Anora or Cailan plan that for you.  I’m afraid the Chantry is making assumptions that Cailan and Anora wouldn’t support, if they knew of them.  I’ll see to Eamon.  And to Elemena.” 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Your Grace.  It’s too late.  It’s more likely the Chantry will send me to Orlais rather than give me up.  They don’t let trained templars leave, particularly ones named Theirin.”

The boy’s prescience surprised him.  “That won’t happen, Alistair.  You must know we’ve thought of that possibility.”

“Right, of course you have.  _That_ would be a catastrophe.  Me in Orlais.  Suddenly I become a bastard _prince_.  What if I married?  Had little Theirins?  Better, I should think about jumping off the battlements.  Now _that’s_ a solution.  Splat, no more bastard.”  He saw the horrified expression on Loghain’s face and sighed.  “No, I won’t jump.  Not that I haven’t thought of it, but no, too cowardly.  Although I’m not sure if it’s because I’m afraid to die or afraid it’s the easy way out.  Maybe both.”  He swallowed and ran his hand through his hair again.  His eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“Have you ever lived without hope, Teyrn Loghain?  Knowing that nothing, _nothing_ you do will change the path you’re on?  It must be what the Void is like.  You get up every day and go through each task and try to do your best because that’s all there is.  That’s all there will ever be.  It’s easier if others ignore you.  If you never hear promises they can’t keep.  Never know what another life might be like.  Let me be a ghost.  All of you should just let me go, as I have already tried to let you go.

“Those two years in Redcliffe, when I lived in the Armory and I thought you and Lys were my friends, were perfect.  I lived in the illusion that I would become someone and have choices.  It was a cruel trick to give me that hope, then snatch it away.  Maybe you didn’t do it purposefully.  I know Lys didn’t.  It doesn’t matter.  It happened.  I had the promise of a life, then it was gone.”

He turned to go back to the barracks.

“Alistair, wait.”

Alistair turned to face the Teyrn.  “For what, Your Grace?  I’ve waited my whole life.  I no longer know what I was waiting for.  To love?  To be loved?  To trust?  To have a family?  Friends?  To have a choice in what I become?  I’m done waiting.  This…” he spread his arms to encompass the Monastery behind him “…this is my life.  My duty.”  He shrugged.  “I’ll adjust.  I always do.”  He and Loghain stared at each other for a long time.  Finally, Alistair broke their silence, saying quietly, “I shall endure.”  He started to recite,  

 _Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,_ _  
I shall embrace the light._

_I shall weather the storm.  
I shall endure._

 “I’m still searching for light in the darkness, Teyrn Loghain, but I shall endure.”  Alistair turned and walked toward the Monastery Gate without a backward look. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.  
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her efforts. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine.  
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and those who recently Reviewed: Eastern Violet, Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, nh09jrb, KatDancer2, Eve Hawke and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. Knowing others enjoy the story inspires me.


	46. Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:28 Dragon - Drakonis through Bloomingtide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe 

**Chapter 46:  OLD FRIENDS**

 

* * *

**9** **:28 Dragon   28 Drakonis  ===  Royal Palace, Denerim**

Loghain handed the letter from the Grand Cleric to Anora. 

“Read it.”

Cocking her head at the command, she looked from her father to the parchment.  Sighing, her brow furrowed, she opened the letter.  Her eyes widened as she read.  “She says I agreed to this!  Father, I did not.  We discussed postponing the acknowledgement.  I never gave a thought to him running away.  Escaping?  She over steps with this.”

“That’s what I told Alistair.  He didn’t believe me.  Anora, I think they plan to send him to Orlais.”

“Father, not everything is an Orlesian plot.”

“So Maric used to tell me.  I’m sure this is, however, and that Eamon and the Grand Cleric are deeply involved.  They’re both being directed by Orlais and the Divine or her representatives.  The Knight-Vigilant leads the templars doesn’t he?”

“Yes.  We have no proof father.  Only speculation.  We’ve tried to find evidence, but there’s nothing.  This letter is the closest thing we’ve found.  What would you have us do?”  Anora replied.

“Invoke the agreement with Maric.  Acknowledge him.  Marry him…to the Howe girl if that’s Howe’s price for support.  Cailan will never agree to a Cousland alliance now.  Get him away from them before it’s too late.”

Anora couldn’t stifle a grin.  “Goodness, political plotting from Loghain Mac Tir.”

Loghain glared.  “Anora this is not a joke.”

“I know.  Nor is marrying him off to Delilah.  Lys is a friend.  She’ll…understand, but it won’t hurt either of them any less.  And Fergus’ opinion does matter.  He’ll be furious.”

“I know.”  Loghain sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.  “Cailan will never accept Lys.  Having Fergus at Court is one thing.  Marrying Lys to Alistair…even if Cailan agreed, Eamon and Howe would stir up all kinds of opposition.  It can’t be Anora.  Even I see that, so you must.” 

“I’ll arrange a meeting with Elemena before Cailan leaves for Orlais.”  Anora held up her hand.  “No, we won’t discuss the Orlais trip again.  He’s going with Eamon and Teagan and, from what I hear, Arl Broughten.”

“Broughten?  Why?”

“His trade expertise.  Arl Philip and Teagan are old friends.  Apparently, Teagan convinced Eamon he could help.  Arl Howe thinks Arl Philip can also keep an eye on Eamon and report back.”

Loghain frowned.  “That rather puts Philip in the middle doesn’t it.  Does anyone know what Bryce thinks?”

“I asked Fergus.  He said Bryce agreed with Howe.  Arl Philip can provide trade expertise and observe Eamon.  Howe and Teyrn Bryce both encouraged Arl Philip to go.”

“I suppose that makes sense.  Teagan blindly follows Eamon, so a more objective observer should be welcome to us.  Still, I don’t like it.  Is Bryce up to something?”

“With Eamon?  Or Orlais?  Hardly likely, Father.”

“No?  Bryce has been sitting in Highever, bored, for three years.  I’m surprised he hasn’t made a move before now.”

“Maybe you should visit him.  Use the excuse of checking on the Highever Guard.  The only areas you haven’t visited are the North and far west beyond Redcliffe.  Make sure Fergus is there, of course.  Cailan’s objections will be worse if he is not.”

Loghain laughed.  “Not a bad idea.  Maybe I’ll stop at Vigil’s Keep on the way.  Check on Amaranthine too.  Make it a real survey of the North.  I could continue on to West Hill and Waking Sea.  By the time I get back Cailan will have forgotten I visited Highever.”

**9:28 Dragon  30 Drakonis  ===  Denerim Chantry**

Grand Cleric Elemena looked up from the parchment, which showed signs of having been crumpled, then smoothed again.  “I made an agreement with Maric Theirin, the man.  Alistair Theirin’s father.  King Maric failed to activate a portion of the agreement and acknowledge the boy before his death.”  Grand Cleric Elemena sipped the tea a sister had served.  “Had you acted to acknowledge him within a year of King Maric’s death, I would have agreed to testify to the boy’s paternity.  It would have fulfilled King Maric’s intentions.  I know he planned to acknowledge the boy at the August Landsmeet in 9:25 Dragon.  Sadly, he died before he could do that.  I understand why you chose not to confuse the succession by acting on his wishes at that time.  It was a wise choice.  Given the sad circumstances postponing the acknowledgement for six months or a year made sense.

“In addition, Alistair was not fully trained as a templar.  Your Majesties, however, did not act within that year.  In fact, Your Majesty,” the Grand Cleric stared sternly at Anora, “you met with me and we agreed the boy should remain at Dragon’s Peak.”

“I did not agree to his remaining permanently, Your Grace.  We discussed a postponement of the acknowledgement at our meeting.  We did not discuss voiding the agreement or establishing a time limit.  Nor did we agree to send a letter to Alistair, the letter you hold, which mis-represents our meeting and threatens him with punishments we did not authorize.”

“The letter,” she held up the parchment, “summarizes, in simplified form appropriate for the boy, my understanding of our discussion.  With the agreement void, he would remain in the Chantry and take vows, unless Your Majesties acted to acknowledge him in a timely manner.  In the letter to the boy, I saw no reason to raise hope that he would be acknowledged or explain the intricacies of the agreement with his father.  Nor did I want him to assume he could simply leave and not suffer consequences.  He is a king’s bastard.  Do you tell me you would not act if he left Dragon’s Peak without permission?”

“The letter implies we never planned to acknowledge him.  It implies we think he will flee.  Both mis-represent us.  Why was I not provided a copy of this letter as standard practice would dictate?  Because you believed I would object and provide a correction?”

“It must have been an oversight, Your Majesty.  I assure you no snub was intended,”  she leaned forward.  “I must repeat, however, Maric Theirin’s death voided the agreement.  At the time, I believe you told me His Majesty would acknowledge him at the next Landsmeet.  There was no reason to mention a time limit.  Now three years have passed and he remains in the Chantry unacknowledged.  The postponement expired long ago.”  Grand Cleric Elemena settled back into her seat and nibbled at her cake.   

Cailan gripped the arms of his chair.  “The agreement was _not_ a personal agreement with my father.  The agreement was with the Crown of Ferelden.”

I’m sorry, Your Majesty,”  Elemena spoke slowly and clearly to Cailan as she might to a sullen child, “but in the case of a bastard child, the agreement to keep the boy, train him, educate him, then release him to his father was between the father and the Chantry.”  The Grand Cleric sipped her tea and then carefully surveyed the cakes offered on a delicate plate.  She selected one before she resumed.  “We did promise to testify to the child’s paternity before the Landsmeet, but that, again, was part of an agreement with Maric Theirin, Alistair’s father, not the King or the Crown.  When he remained and continued training…well, it’s long past time when we could release him.  He’s now a fully trained templar.”

“We, the Crown plan to acknowledge him at the upcoming Landsmeet in August.”

“And who will testify to his paternity, Your Majesty?  I will not.  His father is dead.”

“Arl Eamon Guerrin will testify.  Father placed Alistair with him.” 

Anora put a hand on Cailan’s arm to prevent him from standing.  “Your Grace, why do you insist on keeping him, when you know it was not King Maric’s intention?”

Grand Cleric Elemena sighed.  “He is trained.  He is ready to take vows.  We cannot release trained templars, Your Majesty.  In addition, he is a discipline problem.  He must learn piety and obedience, which, sadly, the Revered Mother and Knight-Captain at Dragon’s Peak seem unable to accomplish.  He’ll remain in the Chantry and learn his place.  Once he learns obedience and piety he will take his vows.”

If he’s a discipline problem you should be happy to be rid of him,”  Cailan almost shouted.  “Why would you want to keep someone who doesn’t want to be here?  He can serve Ferelden well in our Guard.”    

“Your Guards do not require templar talents, Your Majesty.  Talents he cannot unlearn.  Templars, like priests take vows for life.  His skills are those of a full templar.  He will take those vows.”

Tightening her grip on Cailan’s arm, Anora spoke quietly.  “It seems we are at an impasse for the moment.” 

Grand Cleric Elemena smiled again.  “I see no alternative, Your Majesty.  The boy, Alistair, will remain in the Chantry.”

She held out her hand.  “The letter please, Your Grace.”

The Grand Cleric frowned slightly before averting her eyes.  “Why not.“  She handed Anora the letter.

Cailan pulled his arm from Anora’s grasp and strode out of the meeting. 

Anora put the letter in her purse and bowed her head slightly.  “Good day, Your Grace.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“Am I supposed to thank you for pulling me out of there before I strangled the woman?”

“Probably.  Avoiding an Exalted March might be best.”  Anora pulled Cailan into the Chantry.  “Cailan, you’re going to Orlais in a few weeks.  You can present a petition to the Divine when you’re there.”  Anora sat in a pew.  “We have a copy of the agreement with Maric, I’ll provide a statement regarding the Grand Cleric’s mis-representations, and you’ll have the letter to Alistair as proof of them.  We can’t storm the Chantry, Cailan.”

Cailan ran both hands through his hair, and then sat beside her.  Their Guard remained at a distance.  “No, we can’t.  We can’t arrest her either, although I’m sorely tempted.  Isn’t keeping a prince some kind of treason?”

“Probably not in this case.  Your father basically gave him to the Chantry with conditions.  We must ask the Divine to keep those conditions in place.  We need the Grand Cleric to testify to his paternity, when we present the agreement to show Maric’s intentions.  I’m not sure Loghain’s testimony will be enough.  I doubt Eamon will testify; Teagan may refuse as well.”  Anora looked down at her hands, folded in her lap.  “There’s Bryce Cousland, of course.”

Cailan stiffened.  “He has no influence outside Highever, but…perhaps a written statement.  Fergus could present it.”

“We may need him to bring Highever along.  Those pledged to him form a large group in the Bannorn.”

“You make too much sense.  Will this work?”

“You’ll need to use all your charm and persuasion.  And _don’t_ take Eamon with you.  Or Teagan.”

“But-“

“-Cailan please.  Let’s agree to keep him out of this.  Take Arl Broughten.  Tell Eamon you’re touring the Grand Cathedral.  Lie.  Just don’t take him.  Remember, for some reason the Grand Cleric gave Eamon and Teagan permission to visit Alistair without notifying us or asking our permission.  Eamon’s involved in all this somehow.”

Cailan sighed.  “There is that.  Eamon must be the last person Alistair wanted to see.  Alright.  Me and Philip Broughten.  No Eamon.  No Teagan.”

“It’s best, Cailan.”  Anora stretched her back.

“Are you alright?”

“Just an achy back.  I’m told it’s completely normal.” 

Cailan grinned.  “Let me help you up.  You can lean on me.”

“Thank you.  Cailan, you are happy about this?”

He stared at her, mouth slightly open.  “Seriously, Anora?  I’m thrilled.  It’s what we’ve wanted isn’t it?”

Anora smiled.  “It is.  I…we haven’t seemed to talk as much as we used to.  I suppose I wondered.”  She took his arm.  “We should go back.  I’m getting hungry.  I’m told that’s normal too.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The Grand Cleric stood and closed the door to her salon.  As she did, the Chancellor of Ferelden stepped out from behind a screen.

“Now we must decide how to discipline the boy.”

“As you say, Arl Guerrin. “ 

A sister appeared to clear away the used cups and provide a clean one for the Arl.  She poured tea and replenished the plate of lemon and honey cakes.

Elemena continued, “We will bring the boy here to Denerim.  Not right away, but in a few months.  Arrangements must be made.  Orders must be provided to the Knight-Commander.  Ultimately, Alistair will stand accused of aiding apostates during  his travel from Dragon’s Peak to Kinloch Hold last year.”

“Aiding?  How?”

“The Knight-Lieutenant leading the initiates to Kinloch Hold finally admitted that he suspected Alistair and another initiate provided assistance to two apostate prisoners the group were escorting to the Circle Tower.  The Templar-Sergeant initiated the complaint and supports the accusation.  You see, when escorting apostates, the templars provide only enough food and water to sustain life.  It would not do to reward the apostates with good meals.  If the apostates fail to maintain the pace set by the templars, it is Andraste’s will that they be punished.  It is rare that apostates keep pace during a long journey.  When they do, the only explanation is that someone gave them extra food and water.  Alistair and his friend had the opportunity to aid the mages and they did so.

“The boys’ actions go beyond disobedience to insubordination.  This infraction must be added to his persistent misbehavior at Dragon’s Peak.  All involved shall be punished.  Knight-Commander Greagoir has been ordered to punish Knight-Lieutenant Harlow.  Now we must address the others who coddle this boy.  It will take some time to arrange, but I expect all will  be in place by Solace.”

“Can I assist?  I will be going to Orlais in a month.”

“Possibly.  I may have some letters for you to carry to the Divine and Knight-Vigilant.  I will need the Knight-Vigilant’s assistance in this.  The  Knight-Commander will need orders to make the necessary changes at Dragon’s Peak and have the boy moved here.  I’ll contact you before you leave.”  They both stood.

“I’ll take my leave, Your Grace,” the Arl said and bowed.

“Before you go, Arl Guerrin.  The other matter.  Will it be taken care of soon?”

“Ah, yes.  Quite soon I think.  It must happen before we leave for Orlais.  My wife or Sister Eleutheria will contact you.”  The Arl bowed again and left.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

As Cloudreach began, Denerim emptied of nobility.  King Cailan, along with most of the Southern banns and nobles went to South Reach for Arl Bryland’s annual hunt.  Eamon, Isolde and Teagan joined Cailan at Arl Bryland’s keep.  Habren also journeyed home to South Reach, where Vaughan Kendall would join the hunt, with the Wulffs, and visit her.  Only Rendon Howe, of all the nobility, remained in Denerim. 

With Cailan gone, Loghain decided to go north and inspect the Guard in Amaranthine and Highever.  Cailan would barely be back from South Reach before his ship sailed for Orlais.  He would not have time, before he left, to berate Loghain for his visit to Highever. 

Anora insisted that Delilah and Philippa accompany him, assuring her father that she would enjoy the quiet of Denerim.  Having no ladies would give her the excuse to decline any invitations from the few nobles remaining at their estates, without revealing her condition.  Loghain planned to visit Vigil’s Keep, Higheverport and Castle Cousland.  Anora saw no reason why both girls shouldn’t visit their homes.

 **9** **:28 Dragon  Cloudreach  ===  Royal Palace, Denerim**

Erlina stood over Anora’s morning tea holding a phial filled with a pleasantly scented liquid.  Its cork lay on the table next to the teapot.  All Anora’s ladies-in-waiting were away.  For the first time in months, no one, not even that most annoyingly diligent Philippa girl, hovered beside her as she prepared Anora’s tea.  Sighing, Erlina corked the phial without emptying any liquid into the steaming brew.  _I should be able to do this.  Why is it so hard?_

Erlina had come to Anora by an unusual path.  Some years ago, her bard master set herself up in Amaranthine as the Orlesian-Antivan widow of a merchant.  She owned a shop selling the elegant shoes, fabrics and clothing she imported from Orlais.  As a merchant, Marjolaine managed to make friends among the nobility.  Bann Esmerelle and Lady Morag, in particular, appreciated access to fine gowns, fabrics and shoes, remembering the elegant city Amaranthine had been during the Occupation.  Marjolaine soon came to meet all the Amaranthine nobility, including Arl Howe.  

After a time Marjolaine, known as Madame Violante Marchand to the people of Amaranthine, moved on to.  Removed from Bann Esmerelle’s watchful eye, Marjolaine could conduct her affair with Arl Howe more easily.  Someone, afterall, had to keep watch on the ambitious Arl with the Tevinter connections.  He might not get along with his wife and her family, but he certainly entertained a lot of magisters.  Marjolaine knew Howe suspected she was a spy, but that made the game even more appealing.

One of Howe’s weak spots was his disdain for elves.  Marjolaine instructed Erlina to ‘run away’ from the shop and offer herself as a maid for Howe’s daughter Delilah.  Through Delilah Marjolaine hoped to gain access to more of Howe’s secrets and perhaps those of the queen to be.  Of course, she would have to feign an argument with Howe about his ‘theft’ of her servant, but that could be patched over.  The plan worked beyond Marjolaine’s imaginings. 

Delilah disliked both Esmerelle and Marjolaine, suspecting they both were having affairs with her father.  She took pity on Erlina and convinced the Seneschal to give her employment at Vigil’s Keep, serving her mother.  Delilah thought that perhaps her mother, ill though she was, could use a new maid.  That getting up, dressing and not lying abed might do her good and a maid would help with that, as a nurse could not. 

Her father rejected that plan immediately.  It’s likely he would have sent Erlina off to his ‘orphanage’, but Delilah mentioned that Anora sought a new maid.  This opened a realm of possibilities to Howe.  He could have a spy in Anora’s bedchamber and perhaps, should he find anything untoward, even block the wedding.  Would Maric then consider Delilah?  Howe spoke to Anora, expecting Loghain Mac Tir’s daughter to reject an Orlesian Lady’s Maid out of hand.  Anora did not.  She interviewed Erlina and hired her.  Howe derived additional pleasure at Loghain’s outrage.  Later, he thought, perhaps he should have also noted Anora’s strength in standing her ground against her father’s objections.

Marjolaine and Howe did reconcile.  Both gleaned information from Erlina over the years, although Howe needed her less once Delilah became one of Anora’s ladies.  Each week Erlina went to the Chantry and spoke with a specific sister.  Occasionally another sister would join them.  This one had an Orlesian accent, but Erlina never learned her name.  Erlina’s private confession and prayers provided much information for her masters. 

What Erlina did learn over the years, was that she served a fair and generous mistress.  She had faithfully served her mistress contraceptive tea at Marjolaine’s behest since shortly after the wedding.  She knew her mistress had lain with Cailan prior to the wedding, but had neglected to mention this to her contacts.  Cailan and Anora had seemed so happy that summer and fall before Maric died.  That had been the start of her conversion, although she had not realized it at the time.  She had not spoken because she thought they deserved their happiness and their privacy.  In hindsight, she had no regrets.  That happiness had been short-lived enough.

Because of her silence, however, no tea had been served prior to Anora’s marriage.  Anora had become pregnant just before Cailan’s coronation.  Sadly, for Anora, but happily for Erlina, that baby had been lost through a natural miscarriage only a few weeks into the pregnancy.  In truth, Anora had not known she was pregnant, until she no longer was, and the healers explained what had happened. 

Now Anora was pregnant again.  Erlina’s masters had planned this pregnancy.  They planned its end, as well.  They hoped losing the baby would convince Cailan to set her aside. 

Erlina straightened her shoulders, picked up the tea tray and carried the unadulterated tea into Queen Anora Mac Tir Theirin.  _My Lady has treated me far better than anyone else I’ve known since Ma died.  I won’t do this to her.  I may die for disobeying, but she will have this child.  Andraste alone can change what will happen.  I will not._

 **9** **:28 Dragon  Cloudreach  ===  Amaranthine**

Loghain had been pleased to see that both young women rode well and wore sensible clothing for travel.  In addition, neither complained about camping.  He would, he conceded to himself, find an inn if the weather turned bad.  So far, they experienced only  the warm, sunny days of the short Ferelden summer.  They left Denerim quite early the first day and expected to arrive at Vigil’s Keep by nightfall on the third day.  Loghain had informed Arl Howe of his plans, but had not sent word ahead to Vigil’s Keep specifying the day of his arrival.  It was an inspection.  He wanted to see the Guard caught unawares. 

Delilah had been surprised at how pleasant Loghain could be.  She had forgotten that Pippa knew the man from a childhood spent with Lys Cousland.  While not exactly chatty, Loghain did engage the girls in conversation, telling stories of his recent travels in search of King Maric or reminiscing with Pippa about long ago adventures in Highever.  He could tell a story well.  The three-day ride to the Keep passed quickly.

In spite of the surprise arrival, Seneschal Varel served Arl Howe well.  He had prepared rooms upon hearing that Loghain and the two young women would visit sometime in Cloudreach.  Delilah occupied her own apartment.  Varel provided both Philippa and Loghain with comfortable rooms for themselves and their servants.

Loghain visited the Guard Captain and toured the barracks on his arrival.  Guard Captain Lowan expected him.  Arl Howe had alerted him that Loghain would visit during Cloudreach.  The barracks shone and the troops, turned out for an impromptu inspection, met Loghain’s basic requirements easily.  After Loghain toured the armory and practice yards, he returned to the Keep for supper.

“I just assumed Vigil’s Keep could accommodate us.  I wanted no special treatment,” Loghain explained to Delilah as they ate a tasty meal in the small dining room near the kitchens.  “Your father’s seneschal and Guard commander have been able to accommodate my requests so far.  I will watch the Guards spar tomorrow.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

 “What’s this I hear of Rendon setting up an orphanage for elves?”  Loghain asked Seneschal Varel at breakfast the next day.

“He has, Your Grace, but I have nothing to do with it, beyond providing supplies.  It’s located to the east of here on the coast.  I’m sure if Arl Howe were here, he would offer to take you.  I cannot offer that same courtesy, I’m afraid.  He worries that the elves might be abused, so he keeps it well guarded.  Unfortunately prejudices exist, as I’m sure you know.  The Guard there report directly to him, so Guard Captain Lowan has no authority over them.”

“I do, Ser Varel.  I’m simply curious.  The orphanage has nothing to do with my review of the Amaranthine Guard and Vigilant Shield.  I’ll have to visit another time.”  _Strange.  I won’t pressure Varel, but the orphanage may warrant another visit._

“You might enjoy climbing to the tower roof, Your Grace.  It’s a clear day.  The view of Amaranthine from there can be breathtaking.  The orphanage itself is sometimes visible to the east through a gap in the mountains.  I’m sure Lady Delilah will accompany you to point out the landmarks.”

Loghain, Delilah and Pippa did, indeed, climb the tower and view the surrounding lands.  Clearly Amaranthine prospered.  Fine woodlands, farmhold fields filled with growing crops, and upland pastures dotted with cows and sheep filled the valleys between the mountain peaks.  Beyond the land, to the east, a long arm of the Amaranthine Ocean shimmered on the horizon just a few miles from the Keep.  To the north the Pilgrim’s Path to the city of Amaranthine wound into the hills, which shielded the city beyond from view.

The Keep itself, however, had seen better days.  Loghain knew it was ancient, but it needed repair.  He doubted it would withstand an attack.  Perhaps Howe did not have the coin to maintain it.  He always complained that the trade shifted to Highever after the Rebellion.

“We’ll not visit Amaranthine on the way to Highever.  When I return from West Hill and Waking Sea and you rejoin me for the return to Denerim,  perhaps we’ll take the coast road back and stop over then.”

“I would be interested in seeing the city of Amaranthine.  I’ve never visited,” Philippa said.

“Never?”

“No, Delilah, we always traveled directly to Denerim from Higheverport.  The Couslands used to visit your family here, but we never did.”

“And they didn’t visit that often.  Usually father took us to Castle Cousland.  Mother often stayed behind.”

Pippa pursed her lips and squinted.  Her blond hair and fair complexion were covered by a straw hat and a silk shawl.  “I remember your Mother visiting Highever years ago.  Teyrn Eleanor, my mum and your mum spent the whole time in the gardens I think.  You, Lys and I got so bored when they dragged us with them that we snuck off to the cliffs.  There was a great hue and cry when your father thought we’d gone missing.  He must have called out half of Highever to search for us.”

Delilah frowned.  “I do remember now.  He was very angry.  I think Lys told him he couldn’t tell her where she could go on her own lands.  He wasn’t very pleased that she talked back to him.  And even more displeased when all Teyrn Cousland did was laugh.  I was shocked.  She couldn’t have been more than six or seven.  I would never speak up to him, even now.”  After a moment she said so quietly Pippa almost didn’t hear, “Especially now.”

Loghain laughed now.  “I can imagine he wasn’t happy.  Good for Lys.”

Delilah cocked her head at Loghain’s remark.  “You know her well?”

“As well as I do Anora.  I miss her, as I know you do too, Pippa.”

Philippa nodded folding her arms on the battlement wall and resting her chin on them.  “I wish she could come home and stay.”

“Why can’t she?”

“It’s not that she can’t, Delilah.  It’s that there’s not much for her here.  She enjoys her family connections in Nevarra.  She does some work with the weaving and spinning guilds there, just as mum and Teyrna Eleanor do in Highever.  And I suppose there will be suitors in Cumberland, while here there won’t be with the Teyrn in disfavor.”

“But Lord Fergus is not in disfavor.”

“No, but…well I’m not sure she even wants to marry.  She’ll have her own bann one day.  Her mother holds Long’s Reach in her own right.  It will pass to Lys.  Nevarran suitors may be more interesting.”

“I see.  More exciting.  I suppose that makes sense.  She always needed activity and excitement, didn’t she?  And working with the guilds, that must be interesting.  She travels too?  She must if you met her in Antiva City, Teyrn Loghain.”

“I suppose she does.  Although she was visiting family there too.”

“Of course.”  Delilah raised an eyebrow and tossed her head.  “Her good sister is Antivan isn’t she?  Fereldan’s aren’t good enough for Couslands, it appears.”

Pippa frowned at Delilah’s tone, recalling she once hoped to marry Fergus Cousland.  At twenty-one Delilah was still unmarried.  Fergus’ marriage to Oriana still rankled, apparently.

“Well, ladies, I’ve seen enough, but please stay on if you wish.  I’ll see you both at dinner.”

 _There’s nothing suspicious here, although perhaps that should be suspicious.  Bah!  I’m starting to think like Lys.  Howe’s ambitious, but nothing more.  Although I would like to see that orphanage.  Howe taking pity on elves…something about_ that _doesn’t smell right.  Perhaps I’ll add that to my list of things to worry about.  I’ll have to ask Bryce what he knows._

Loghain went on to watch the Guard and Howe’s personal troops, the Vigilant Shield, spar and shoot.  He found them surprisingly skillful, well trained and equipped.  _Howe has fifty troops in his personal guard.  I wonder why so many.  I suppose that stems from his suspicious nature.  Even so, he has a lot of troops for his small Arling.  I’ll have to ask Bryce if he knows why._

 **9** **:28 Dragon   Cloudreach  ===  Denerim Chantry Garden**

Erlina sat on a bench in the garden twisting a cloth in hands.  “I have not yet given her the potion,” she admitted to the sister kneeling beside the bench weeding a patch of garden.  Her regular contact had led her out to the garden to see this other sister, the one with the Orlesian accent.

“The potion must be put in the tea immediately before I serve the tea.  Someone, usually the girl Pippa, insists on getting the Queen’s tea each morning and she was always there.  I didn’t have a chance to add the potion.”

The sister sat back on her heels.  “Yet, you manage to mix the contraceptive tea with no difficulty.”

“Yes, it’s a dried mixture.  I mix it in the tea herbs.  I don’t have to add it at the last moment.”

“Ah, I see.  Well, no matter.  There is still time.  Now, about the girl Pippa.  She’s the Arl of Higheverport’s daughter?”

“Yes.  A pleasant enough girl.  Smart.  The queen enjoys her conversation.  She’s enjoys many of the same things as Queen Anora, unlike Lady Habren or even Lady Delilah.”

“And all the Queen’s ladies have gone away?”

“Yes.”

“So, there is no impediment now.”

 _My own conscience._ “Only one.  Her Majesty has been preparing her own tea with her ladies gone.  She claims she finds the process soothing.  Again, I have no chance to add the potion.”

Eleutheria frowned.  “What Queen prepares her own tea?  These Fereldans are impossibly _gauche.”_

_Maker be praised, she believes me._

_“_ You need to figure some way to accomplish this.  And before the King departs for Val Royeaux.”  The sister sat back on her heels .  “I wonder what would happen if a vial of the potion was found in Lady Broughten’s possession?  Or perhaps in Delilah Howe’s chests.”  Sister Eleutheria stared at the pile of weeds, unseeing.  “I’ll have to muse on that.  Come back in three days.  I may have new orders for you then.”

 **9** **:28 Dragon  Cloudreach  ===  Highever**

Delilah and Philippa rode on to the Arl of Higheverport’s Keep when Loghain turned into Castle Cousland’s baily.  The young woman would stay with Arlessa Alys, while Loghain stayed at the Castle.  Neither Teyrna Eleanor nor Teyrn Bryce greeted Loghain on his arrival.  Both, Seneschal Mowry informed him, had gone to the city to attend a ceremony at the Guildhall. 

“No matter,” Loghain replied to the seneschal, “they could not be sure of the time of our arrival.  Lady Philippa has gone on to the Keep with Lady Delilah.  If I could have a bath and a light snack I’ll be quite happy.”

“Of course, Your Grace.  Your rooms await.  I’ll have a bath drawn immediately.”

Loghain, comfortably clean and in fresh clothes, wandered from his rooms to the family garden.  It seemed a shame to waste such a lovely day indoors, but he felt too lazy to walk to the cliffs or, Maker forfend, ride anywhere.  _I must be getting old or too used to my comforts._  

He loved the quiet of the garden.  All sounds seemed muffled.  The crash of the waves, the cry of the gulls, the wind, the clash of metal and thunk of arrows from the practice yard, the voices of soldiers patrolling the battlements and horses arriving in the bailey all seemed dampened before they reached his ears.  He reclined on a stretch of wall he remembered as Lys’ favorite spot.  The stone felt comfortably warm from the summer sun.  If he sat up he would see over the outer wall to the cliffs and the sea.  He closed his eyes, feeling the sun warming him from above and the stone from below.

He heard his name, but struggled to remember where he was.  Not in bed, the surface he lay on was too hard.  He opened his eyes and sat up, squinting in the sunlight.  A tall, greying man stood over him.

“I’d heard you’d arrived.  Sorry we weren’t here to greet you, but duty called.”

“Bryce!”  Loghain smiled as he stood.  “It’s good to see you.”

Bryce Cousland remained serious.  “It would mean more had you said that three years ago.”

Loghain grimaced.  “Fair point.  I should have.  I’ve made many mistakes.  Giving in to my grief and anger at the Landsmeet is one of the mistakes I regret most.”  He stared at his friend.  “I can’t change it Bryce.  I can’t make I up to you.  It was wrong and we both have to live with my error.”

Bryce almost smiled.  “I’d be worried if you said you were sorry any other way, Loghain.”  He held out his had in greeting and Loghain clasped it.

“I wanted to greet you, but I can’t stay.  I have two banns waiting for me to discuss mining issues.  I can’t ignore them.  Eleanor is on her way with some refreshments.  I’ll leave her to tell you my failings.  You and I can catch up, or try to, this evening.  I seem to have an endless store of Antivan Brandy from the Falanni.”  Bryce grinned.  In spite of the greying hair, he almost looked like his old self.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Loghain watched him walk away.  Bryce had aged these past three years.  _Do people think that about me?  Do I walk more slowly?  No grey to speak of, but what else has changed?_   Bryce passed Eleanor as he approached the castle entrance.  She waved the servant on to the table set under the beech tree and stopped to speak with Bryce.  He cupped her cheek and kissed her forehead before going in.  _Now theirs is a love story that should be told by the bards.  I wonder how much of it Lys and Fergus know?  I’m a greater fool than anyone knows.  I gave up a friendship with the two best people in Ferelden._

Eleanor walked towards his hands outstretched.  “Loghain.  It’s so good to see you here in Highever again.”

“It’s good to be here again, Eleanor.”  He took her hands and she lean up and kissed him on each cheek.  Not as tall as her daughter, Eleanor had to stand on tiptoe to reach him. 

“How is Anora?”

He frowned.  _Had Lys told her mother Anora was pregnant?  Or had she already spoken with Pippa?_   _Stop!  Of course neither girl had broken their promised silence._   “Fine, Eleanor.  Seems to be happy to have me home, although still annoyed I left to begin with.’

“As are we all.”

Loghain chuckled.  “You’re known to be one of the most diplomatic, clever nobles in Ferelden and yet you can be so direct.”

“I choose my weapon, Loghain, based on the target.  Mincing words with you never works.”

“I missed you.  Both of you.  You’re needed in Denerim.”

“We don’t stay away by choice.”

“I know.  Anora sends her best.”  He frowned.  _Well, in for a silver in for a sovereign.  Anora would thank him in the end._   “She…she could use your support.”

“Why?”

“She’s with child and… not scared, but…apprehensive.  She worries she’ll have the same problems Celia did.  She lost two, one before Anora and one after, then we lost both her and the last babe.  Anora worries that she can’t carry a baby to term.  Celia had a difficult time with Anora, as well.”

Eleanor laid a hand on Loghain’s back and nudged him toward the bench by the beech tree.

“I know you lost a babe after Fergus was born.”

“Two, actually.  Lys was a gift.”  She frowned.  “I wish I could see her.  It must be frightening for you as well.  Maker.  I wish she could come stay with us here.  I have to believe getting away from Denerim would be a good thing.”  She gave Loghain a sharp look.  “She does have mage healers.  Tell me she does.”

“Yes, yes, they say she and the baby are fine.  I’ve insisted on having mages and fortunately Cailan agreed.  We didn’t have a mage in Gwaren.”

“Good.  I don’t know what we would do without Nyla in the household.”  She laid a hand on Loghain’s arm.  “Give her my best, Loghain.  I’ll give you a letter for her, if you think that would be safe.” 

He nodded, yes.

“Perhaps I can come to Denerim with Fergus and Oriana in the fall.  I’ll stay at Highever House with Oren.  We might arrange a meeting.”

Loghain smiled.  “I’ll ask her and let you know.”

Eleanor poured Loghain a cool lemon tea, then added a drop of brandy.  Grinning, she handed him the drink.  “I find this fortifying on a busy day.”  She watched him take a long drink.  “Other than pregnant, how is Anora?”

“Coping.  I never know for sure.  She wanted to come with me, but knows she can’t.  I hated leaving her in Denerim with only Howe in residence, but we both wanted the breech with Bryce resolved.  We hope, when Cailan returns….”  He sighed.  “I am a fool, Eleanor.  I’m trying to put things right.  It’s difficult.  I left it too long.”

“You did.  I know Lys spoke with you and you have all the intelligence she can offer.  Eamon continues to make inroads.  We’ve heard Cailan looks forward to all the frivolity and glory that Orlais offers to him.”

“It scares me.  He never has the patience for substance.  I’d feel better if Fergus were his companion more often.  Teagan…he runs his small bann well, but, as a bachelor, he enjoys all the entertainments available in Denerim.  Cailan only sees his frivolous side.  I wish Teagan would let him know both aspects of his character.  Instead I fear what pursuits they might get up to in Val Royeaux.”

“Not good ones, I suspect, from what we hear of their adventures in Denerim.  In truth, I’m surprised at Teagan.  I thought he had more sense; then again, he always looked up to Eamon.  Unless presented with clear mis-deeds, as he was with Alistair, he’ll not raise hand or voice against his brother.”

“I would have to agree.  I don’t know how to make him see what Eamon is up to.  It’s more than simple trade agreements.” 

“Alys had a letter from Arl Philip.  He’s gone ahead to prepare for the King’s visit to Val Royeaux.”  She frowned.  “Loghain, Philip sent several Orlesians to meet with Alys and our guilds here at what he understood was Cailan’s request.  We’ve made no agreements to trade with them, but it’s likely the guilds will.”  She hesitated, “That’s where we were this morning, greeting them.  You might see the three Orlesian merchants around town.  We won’t entertain them here, but Alys will have them to dinner to at the Keep with several guild leaders.  I will have to attend.”

“Trade is legal.”

Eleanor smiled and spoke in a raspy, lower voice.  “…he said gruffly, frowning and wishing it wasn’t”

That prompted a twitch of his lips and a renewed frown.  “Was it necessary?  To send them here?”

“Unavoidable, apparently.  Eamon made a great show of Higheverport’s successful trade with Nevarra at a dinner with the Orlesian Ambassador in Denerim.  Cailan insisted a trade delegation should visit Highever and Arl Philip had no choice but to extend the invitation.  Orlais imports our cloth through Nevarra, but now they hope to import directly.”

“And it’s legal.  Damn Maric and his trade agreements.”  He took another drink of the tea.  “As long as I don’t have to be pleasant to them I’ll keep quiet.”

“Perhaps a glimpse of the Hero of River Dane and a glare will scare them away?  I could arrange it.  I’m sure Rendon would receive them in Amaranthine.”

“Don’t.  I’m not sure I could limit myself to a glare.  I suspect skewered merchants would annoy Anora and that I do want to avoid.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Dinner in the family dining room included the Teyrn and Teyrna, Fergus, Oriana and Loghain.  It proved to be a relaxed affair.  Oriana was as quick witted as her mother-in-law and both Fergus and Bryce suffered their retorts with grins and banter of their own.  Oren had eaten earlier, but was the topic of conversation.  He had been insisting, at four, on beginning martial training, which Oriana resisted.

“He’s too young, Fergus.  Perhaps a bow, but he’s too young for a sword.”

“Oriana’s suggestion seems reasonable, Fergus,” his mother offered.  “Start him out with a bow.”

“Says the archer.  I think you’re biased, Mother.”

“At the risk of butting in, I think you’re mother’s right,” Loghain said.  “Let him learn both, but begin with archery.  Then in a few years he’ll be ready to hunt.  There’ll be time enough to learn sword play in a year or two.”

Fergus gave Loghain an unhappy scowl.  “Says another archer.”

Bryce covered his smile with a cough. 

“See, even Ferelden’s great general agrees with me.”  Oriana looked smug.

Loghain held up his hands.  “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s fine, Loghain.  Fergus and Oriana have been discussing this for days.  You provided an objective view and resolved it, I think?”  Eleanor raised an eyebrow at Fergus.

“Fine.  Archery it is.  Just don’t expect me to teach him.”

“Ah, we reach the crux of the problem.  Fergus cannot hit the armory door much less a target.”  Oriana laughed.  “I’m a better archer then he is and I have no training.” 

“The truth hurts.”  Fergus held up his hands in defeat and they all laughed.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“I’d forgotten.”

“Forgotten what?”

“How much I enjoy visiting here.”

“Ah.  Shades of better times.”  Bryce poured the promised Antivan Brandy.  “To lost and missing friends.  May we find them one day.”

“ _Lechyd Da_ [26] – good health to us all.”

Bryce sat.  “It’s been a long time since we sat like this by the fire.”  He gazed, unsmiling at his old friend.  “So, you’ve been back since First Fall.  Why visit now?”

“The obvious reason.  Cailan’s gone to Bryland’s hunt in South Reach.  I didn’t have to explain myself when I headed north.”

“Would it have been so hard?  You’re inspecting the Guard.”

“Yes.  He’s unforgiving Bryce.  It’s personal with you.  He’s accepted Fergus back.  He won’t accept you.  Eamon feeds it.  At least that’s what Anora tells me.  Eamon’s subtle.”

“And my good friend Rendon?”

“Took the opportunity to increase his influence.  Has he acted against you?”

“No, he won’t.  He’ll fortify his own power and position.  He’s always felt under appreciated.  I suspect we’ll see a Teyrn of Amaranthine someday.  He thinks he should have been elevated after the Rebellion.  He held it against Maric.

“He has land and banns pledged to him.  Politically breaking up the North and adding a third Teynir makes sense for the monarchy.  It will appeal to the Landsmeet.  I won’t oppose it.  Nor will Fergus.  He will have the influence one day to achieve it.  I imagine Eamon wishes he could do the same, but he has no vassals, only alliances.”

“Do you know why Howe has so many troops?”

“So many?”

“Well, his Vigilant Shield numbers fifty and his Guard well into the hundreds.”

“Right, his Shield.”  Bryce laughed.  “I told you he feels underappreciated.  I think he believes a large personal guard elevates his status.  As for his Guard, Amaranthine has a long coastline, which is often plagued by pirates, and it includes the islands.  He uses the Guard to patrol the coast and keep the pirate attacks to a minimum.”

“I see.  I suppose more pirates would attack in the North.  We don’t see that many in Gwaren.  Why don’t you clean out the islands?”

“We do.  Every few years.  Then the pirates come back.  In truth, the villagers of Brandel’s Reach are raiders too.  It’s too costly to maintain a permanent garrison large enough to protect both islands.  We protect the settled areas in the south around the town of Alamar and leave the rest to their own devices.”

 _That makes sense.  At least Bryce knows about the troops and how they are used.  I had feared he wouldn’t_.  _Perhaps Howe’s activities aren’t so secret afterall._   Changing the subject, Loghain asked, “Do you know who ‘encouraged’ your candidacy, Bryce?”

“Eamon.  I have no bloody arrow, but the trail leads back to Eamon.  I imagine he even convinced Esmerelle.  She and Rendon have a…volatile relationship.  It may have come at a time when she wanted to exert her independence.”  Bryce swirled the brandy in his glass.  “I was a fool.  I know Cailan.  I should have declined immediately and not let the vote take place.”

“And I should not have doubted you.  I let Cailan vent his anger with no restraint or argument.  I’m sorry.  Anora and I could have nipped it in the bud, but we…I let it fester.  Letting that happen then leaving.  Two of my greatest mistakes.”

“Water under the bridge.  Can we move on, even if Cailan can’t?”

“I’d like to.  Use you as my advisor…and Anora’s.  She’s always wanted you back at Court.”

“Good.”  Bryce smiled then and poured another round.  “To friendship.”  He sipped the brandy.  “And speaking of friendship, let’s join the others in the solar.  We can discuss the state of the kingdom tomorrow.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“What of Alistair, Loghain?”  Eleanor sat with her needlepoint in front of the hearth.  “Lys won’t speak of him.”

“He’s essentially being held by the Chantry.  Grand Cleric Elemena claims the agreement with Maric is null now that he’s gone.  She won’t give Alistair up.  We fear they plan to get him to Orlais.  Eamon’s hand is all over this.”

“Maker.  Can she do that?  Can’t Cailan demand he be…produced?  Have any of you seen him?”

“Not since Cailan and Anora spoke with Elemena.  I saw him in Drakonis.  Promised, again, to get him away.  He didn’t believe me.  Lost his temper, actually.  What he said had been building up for years.  All true.  I’m afraid we might lose this one.  Short of kidnapping him and hiding him in the Free Marches or something equally drastic, we’re not sure what to do.”

“Drakonis.  Lys doesn’t know any of this then?”

“No, last she heard we would acknowledge him in August and,” he sighed.  “announce his betrothal.”  Loghain said the last very quietly.

“Not to Lys.”  Bryce stated it as a fact not a question.

“Not to Lys.  To Delilah Howe.  Howe’s price for supporting us.”

Bryce stiffened and took a breath. 

“That bastard.”  Fergus snapped.

“Poor Lys.  And poor Alistair.  Not that Delilah isn’t a pleasant girl, but Rendon as a father-in-law?”  Eleanor shook her head.  “Drakonis?  Lys knows this, then?”

Loghain nodded.

“No wonder she won’t discuss it.”

“Well, it’s all moot now.  I’ll just be happy to get him into the Shield and out of the Chantry.  I’m tired of losing those I care about.  Or watching them lose what they value most.”  Loghain slouched down in his chair, legs stretched out toward the fire.”

“Andraste’s mercy, I couldn’t agree more.”  Bryce echoed. 

Oriana leaned against Fergus, who tightened his arm around her shoulders.

“They should be here too.  Alistair and Lys.  Thank the Maker for Kai.  I’m not sure where Lys would be without her.”  Eleanor put her handwork in her lap.  “I hope you can save Alistair.  Becoming a templar would be an awful fate, but what Empress Celene might do with him in Orlais…damn Maric anyway for taking him away from us here.”  Her green eyes, so like Lys’, gleamed with unshed tears.

“We’ll have to make sure that doesn’t happen.”  Loghain asserted.  “Losing Alistair to the Chantry and Orlais would be unacceptable.  He deserves so much better.”

 **9** **:28 Dragon  14 Cloudreach  ===  Higheverport**

After conferring with Oriana and Eleanor, Loghain sought out Fergus to accompany him into Higheverport.  The two Cousland women had provided him with several suggestions for Anora’s birthday gift.  As he and Fergus walked through the market flashes of color near the Guildhall caught his eye.  The Orlesians.  They were hard to miss.  The Highever merchants dressed well, but not ostentatiously.  The guild leaders wore well-tailored clothes in greys, browns and blues made from fine Fereldan wools.  They did not wear lace or bright yellow or green silk.  Their hair did not curl onto their shoulders.  They did not wear masks. 

The Orlesians looked like the parrots Loghain had seen on the islands around Seheron.  Brightly colored silk tunics, robes, stockings and breeches adorned their figures.  One wore a full-length robe with slashed sleeves over several slashed under tunics of contrasting colors.  The other two wore shorter jerkins and tunics, slashed and pleated to show the brilliant fabric underneath, with breeches and stockings.  All three wore half masks.  He assumed the half masks were in deference to their Ferelden hosts.  Feathers sprouted from the mask of the robed merchant.  The other two had less opulent decoration, but one wore a cloth wrapped around his head, which he secured with a large gemstone pin.. 

Loghain shook his head.  _No, I’ll not say a word._  

Fergus looked at him warily. 

He grinned.  “Don’t worry.  I won’t attack, but let’s put some space between those popinjays and us.  Besides, I’m not wearing the plate today.  My attack wouldn’t be as impressive in leather.”

Fergus raised his eyebrows, chuckled and turned towards the docks.  “I’m feeling peckish.  Perhaps some fish and ale?”

“Sounds fine to me.  We can get that gift for Anora on the way back.  Perhaps the market will be less crowded.”  Hap and Jadyn followed their masters hoping the meal included them too.

“ _La belle Andraste, regardez, Antoine!  C’est les chiens mabari.  Les chiens grandes du Ferelden.  Il y a deux la bas, avec leur maîtres.”_

“Shit,” Loghain heard Fergus mutter and laughed. 

“Just keep walking Fergus.  Ignore them.”

 _“Messieurs,”_ the Orlesian shouted, _“ arretez, arretez…s’il vous plait.  Nous voulons voir vos chiens.”_

 _“Non, messieurs,”_ Fergus heard one of the Fereldan merchants order.  _Here it comes._

_“C’est Le Fils Cousland et Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir.”_

Fergus chuckled, but did not look back.  His townsmen wouldn’t let the Orlesian approach them.

_“Mac Teer?  Le Boucher du Fleuve Dane?  Mais il ne port pas l’armure du chevalier!  On sais-”_

“-The _Hero_ of River Dane, yes, without his chevalier’s plate.  Now come inside before you cause a riot or provide a mid-day meal for the mabari.  The Cloth Guild master pulled the robed Orlesian into the Guildhall and the other two followed.

Loghain and Fergus continued to the docks, laughing.  Fergus led Loghain to a tavern tucked into an alley leading to the quay.  “Best fish in Higheverport.  Bessie brews her own ale too.”

The two men seated themselves at a corner table.  The mabari settled at their feet.  Fergus nodded to the woman by the ale kegs.  Soon a boy set plates of grilled white fish and tankards of ale on the table.  The same boy set servings of fish, carefully broken up with bones removed, in front of the two mabari. 

Hap nudged Loghain.  “No, no ale.”  He snorted.  “Damn dog would be drunk if I let him.”

Fergus laughed. 

“Can’t say I like the look of Orlesians in Higheverport, Fergus.  Bad enough in Denerim, although the Ambassador keeps to himself and doesn’t flaunt the fancy dress so much.  Never wears a mask.  I suppose if Cailan suggested it to Arl Philip the poor man had no choice.  Just keep an eye on them.”

“Mum will.  She’s still involved with the Guilds, Loghain.  We’ll not become an Orlesian outpost, I promise.”

“They’re insidious, Fergus.  As is Eamon.  And the Society for Trade and Culture…it exists.  There are probably members here.”

“The Society?”

“They say they want to encourage trade with Orlais.  Most of the members claim one Orlesian parent or grandparent.  We suspect they kept their Orlesian ties active, but secret.”  Loghain smirked.  “Rather like Isolde Guerrin, dare I say?  We think they use the Chantry to meet.  Most of them are unaccountably pious.  Again, rather like the Arlessa and her pet sister.  We can’t prove anything.”

“We’ll keep alert, Loghain.  I haven’t heard of such a group and I suspect I would.  As Commander of the Guard I spend time with the troops.  One good thing.  Our Chantry priests, brothers and sisters are all Fereldan, most are from Highever.  We prefer it that way, as the local folk accept our treatment of elves and mages better than those from away.”

“From away?”

“Not from Highever.”

“What about Amaranthine?”

“They’re not so enlightened.  Papa lets Howe run his Arling pretty much as he wants.  Howe’s open to mages, but elves are not as easily accepted.  The Alienage in Amaranthine, built during the Orlesian occupation, remains walled.”

“Have you heard of his orphanage?”

Fergus nodded.  “Yes.  Seems out of character for him.  We haven’t seen it.  He’s become quite independent since Da’s gone from Court.  We’ll stay alert, Loghain.”

Loghain looked at the serious young man across from him.  “I believe you will Fergus.  Now if you can only convince Cailan.”

**9:28 Dragon  Bloomingtide  ===  Cumberland  Nevarra**

“You look happy.  Did that Arl Eamon die?”

Lys grinned.  “Sadly no.  Maker, I shouldn’t say that should I?”

“You’d be more convincing if you stopped smiling when you said it,” Kai retorted.

Lys waved a letter.  “Mum writes that Loghain visited Papa.  Even if Papa can’t return to Court, it’s good that he and Loghain reconciled.  Mum said they had a lovely visit and missed us.

“It’s not all good.  The Orlesian merchant delegation arrived in Highever.  Arlessa Alys had to entertain them.  The Arl hadn’t returned when Mum wrote, so she didn’t know how the Orlesian visit went.  It’s just nice to have good news for a change.  Maybe this means things will get better.”

Kai raised an eyebrow.  “Where did this come from?  Where’s Layne the skeptic?”

“I was an impulsive, optimistic, affectionate child.”

“Then you woke up in Ferelden.”  Sherpa butted Kai from behind.  She fell on her rear with a yelp.

“Serves you right.  Can’t you let me have my illusions for a day?”  She grinned at her mabari, “Thank you Sherpa.”

Sherpa woofed quietly, then began licking Kai’s face.

“Fine.  Fine.  I yield you damn hound.  Maker, what did you eat?  Your breathe stinks.  Stop!  I’ll let her be delusional for the day.”

Lys laughed as Kai rolled away trying to escape the mabari’s attentions.

Lys didn’t mention the other letter.  She did not read that one until she was alone.

**_9:28 Dragon   23 Drakonis_ **

_Lys,_

_I wasn’t going to write, but…well clearly I have.  Loghain delivered your letters.  I’m glad you all survived the attack in Antiva City.  I can’t imagine how it must have felt to kill someone.  I’m glad you had your friends and family there.  I envy you that to be honest.  After Loghain left, I had to learn how to get by on my own.  Not whining Lys, just a fact._

_I want you to know, whatever happens, that you will always have my heart.  And I_ would _recognize you if we met.  No one else could be as vain about her hair as you or have your astonishing green eyes.  Of course, you’d be accompanied by your mabari and your friend, Kai, so I’d be sure to notice.  And perhaps you would be wearing a silver laurel pendant.  I hold out hope you still wear the pendant; the ring, well, I’m sure you have scores of suitors so that wouldn’t be appropriate._

_I will leave this on the table for Loghain.  I hope he gets it to you.  I have no expectation that I will get to leave the Chantry, in spite of his assurances.  It’s funny, I find I consider Dragon’s Peak home.  I have friends.  I could be content here, but I’ll have to leave once I take vows.  It’s the life I have, if not the one I would have chosen.  I will need to live it and not dream of impossibilities.  You and Highever happened long ago now, but I will always treasure those memories.  Of you in Redcliffe as well._

_I know that you would have done everything possible to change what’s happened  since.  You’re the one person who always wanted me to have choices in my life_.  I know that. _You are the one person I don’t blame.  Don’t blame yourself for anything.  I know you will, but, Lyssie, don’t._

_One day we might meet again.  You won’t know it’s me.  I’ll have a tinpot on my head, but I will know you.  Be happy Lys.  For me.  Knowing you’re happy will make me happy._

_Always your friend,  Alistair_

Nothing Alistair said was a surprise.  Lys did not cry.  She had cried too many tears already.  She had decided she was done crying and done gazing at the stars and dreaming.  As he said, she needed to live the life she had.  She fingered the laurel pendant and the amulet that hung next to it.  _You’re right, Alistair.  I will always think I could have done more._   And y _ou’re also wrong, I’ll always wear the ring and you will always hold my heart._   She smiled to herself.  _And I am not that vain about my hair.  No more than you._

 

* * *

[26] A Welsh toast meaning cheers or good health.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome encouragement, suggestions and critiques.  
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her efforts. Her astute comments certainly improved this chapter. It’s good one of us remembers what I wrote many chapters back. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine.  
> Thanks to all who Favorited, Followed and those who recently Reviewed: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, nh09jrb, KatDancer2, Eve Hawke and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. Knowing others enjoy the story inspires me.


	47. Plans and Potions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:28 Dragon Solace and August

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

 “Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 47:  PLANS AND POTIONS**

* * *

**9:28 Dragon  2 Solace  ===  Royal Palace, Denerim**

Cailan looked terrible as he squinted up at Fergus from his pillow.  Fergus poked him again. 

“I’m the King, Fergus.  You can’t poke me anymore.”

“I can and I will.  You need to get up, King or not.  You’re due at the Warden Compound by mid-morning bells.”

“Oh, no.  I’m supposed to spar with that giant Anders warden aren’t I?  What’s his name?”

“Stefan.”

“Was I drunk when I agreed to that?  I must have been.  No?  You go.”

“I am going.  I’m sparring with a normal sized Marcher warden.”

“Right.  Well you spar with both of them.  I’m King.  I order it.”

Fergus rolled his eyes.  “Wardens don’t care about titles, remember.  You say that’s why you like to visit them.”

Cailan sat up and immediately flopped down again.  “It’s spinning still.”

Fergus had returned to Highever House when Teagan and Cailan left the Gnawed Noble to go to the Pearl.  He had come to the Palace early to ensure Cailan was up in time to go to the Warden Compound.  Whatever protests Cailan offered, Fergus knew he would be annoyed if he did not get there.  Cailan prided himself on sparring well with the best the Wardens’ had to offer.  “That’s what you get when you drink and whore.”

“Ah, the disapproval of a happily married man.”

“You’re happily married…or you were.”

“Was I?  I don’t think so.  We comforted each other after my father’s death.  Comfort is not love.”

“That’s a profound statement given you are hung over.  Surely, you and Anora felt more than that.  As I recall the two of you were…together before your father left.”

Cailan smiled, remembering.  “We were.  I wooed her.  Infatuation, perhaps?  Making the best of the inevitable?  Don’t get me wrong, Fergus.  I care about Anora.  Maker, we’re having a child, but we’re very different.  She’s…cool.  Serious.  Never fun.  She wasn’t always that way, but she is now.  And angry, since I got back from Orlais.  Some days I think she’s turning into her father.”

“Well, stories of your exploits preceded you.  I’ve no doubt she heard them.”

“Yes, well...she hasn’t mentioned those stories, although you’re probably right.  She’s upset I didn’t convince the Divine to grant our petition releasing Alistair and making the Grand Cleric testify.  Acts like I didn’t want the Divine Beatrix to grant it.”  Cailan frowned.  “Of course I did… _I do_.  Alistair’s _my_ brother, even if she does know him better.  It’s not as if _I_ decided not visit him when we were younger.  That was Father and Loghain.  I can’t help it if the Divine is…distracted, perhaps confused.”

“Distracted?”

“Her first words were, _King Cailan of Ferelden?  Isn’t that rebel Maric Theirin King of Ferelden?”_   The Knight-Vigilant explained that Father died at sea and she seemed to understand.  Until she didn’t.  _Tell Elemena to talk with King Maric,_ she said.  I tried to point out that I was _King Cailan,_ his son and that he died.  Believe me, I tried, but she kept referring to _King Maric_ and wouldn’t discuss the petition _._ Finally, the Knight-Vigilant and one of the Mothers had a whispered conversation with her.  When they finished, she dozed off.  The Revered Mother said she spoke for her and denied our petition in her name.  When I protested, they woke her and asked her to confirm their decision and she did.  Then she left with the Knight-Vigilant and a host of Revered Mothers.  As she left, she whispered to me that Alistair would love Orlais.”

Fergus scratched his chin.  “Love Orlais?  Sounds like she confirmed Loghain’s worst expectations.  Who went with you?”

“No one.  Arl Broughten came with me to the Grand Cathedral, but not to the audience.  That’s when I wished you or Anora  or both of you were there.  By the time I left I wasn’t sure who was more confused, me or her.”

“Be glad that she didn’t call you Meghren or refer you to him.”

 “Thank you, Fergus.”  Cailan chuckled.  “Always looking on the bright side.”

“That’s me.  A product of the sunny Coastlands.  So tell me, how did you manage to leave Eamon and Teagan behind?”

“With difficulty.  Had to make sure the audience was early, so Teagan was still asleep and Eamon was off to one of his special Chancellor meetings.”

“So, you were hung over.”

“You sound like Anora.  No, I stayed in my rooms and let Teagan go off on his own the night before.  Said I was ill.  I was completely sober during the audience.  The Divine is just…distracted, as I said.”

“But you enjoyed the rest of the trip?  You liked Orlais”

“And how do I answer that, Fergus?  Is it a trick?  Is Loghain hidden behind the curtain?” 

Fergus snickered.

“It’s a beautiful place with obnoxious people.  Well the ones I met anyway.  Worth a visit.  If only they didn’t want to rule us, it would be enjoyable.  They’re on the formal side with the masks and all, but you must know that.  Nevarra is similar isn’t it?”

Fergus nodded.  “So I’m told.  I haven’t spent much time there.  Lys has.  She’s been to Orlais too.”

“Has she?  So I could have taken her?”  Cailan grinned.  “Joking Fergus.  Well, partly.  What took her there?”

“House Haris.  She works for the House now as an agent.”

“Right.  Anora mentioned that” Cailan stopped grinning.  “Eamon still wants me to set Anora aside once the baby is born.  He swears an Orlesian marriage alliance is in Ferelden’s best interests.  He actually suggested fostering the baby in Orlais for a while.  Maker, spare me weeks on shipboard with Eamon.  I finally started climbing the masts to escape him.  He wouldn’t let it rest.”  Cailan suddenly looked wary.  “Fergus, you won’t tell anyone what I just said?”

“You didn’t tell Anora?”

“No!  I don’t want her worrying about it.”

“That may be wise.  No, Cailan, anything you tell me is in confidence unless you say otherwise.”

“Good.  She worries enough for both of us as it is.  And…you’re right, we don’t get along as well as we once did.  She’s my Queen, my friend, she’s having our child, but she’s not…I love her, but I am not in love with her.  I thought we might be that couple from the tales, but we’re not.  We’re not like you and Oriana or…, “ Cailan frowned, “your parents.  We’re good partners, but not lovers.  I think she holds that against me.”

“Maybe she loves _you_.  Maybe she just wishes you didn’t go to the Pearl several times a week.”

“No, we’re friends.  If she’s in love with anyone, it’s not me, but you may have a point about the Pearl.  You would think she would be glad I’m careful where I go.  The Pearl is safe.  I won’t produce any little Theirins if I stick to the Pearl.  I wish she didn’t begrudge me my evenings.  Orlais opened up a whole new world.  I didn’t know what other wonders awaited me.”  He grinned.  Clearly, his confidences had ended.  “You’ll have to come next time Fergus.”

“I’d rather not, Your Majesty.  Orlesians tend not to look with favor on Fereldans with Nevarran ties.  Besides, I _am_ in love with mywife.”

“Right.  I’ll keep that in mind.”  Cailan sat up again, more slowly.  “Is there a bath?”

“Ready and waiting, Your Majesty.”

“Egan!  What would I do without you.  You’re a life saver, man.”  Cailan squeezed the elf’s shoulder as he stepped into the hot bath.  “Ahh.  Water’s perfect Egan.  Now, Fergus.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Why does that always sound … wrong when you say it?”

“It’s not meant to, Your Majesty.”

“No, I know Fergus.  It’s me.  Sometimes I’m still surprised I’m King and Father’s gone.  Nothing’s been right since then you know.”

“I do.”

“It’s Cailan today, please.  As you said, Wardens have no titles.  I’d like to follow their custom today.”

“As you wish, Cailan.”

Fergus got a brilliant Theirin smile in return.

“Egan, I’ll need my arming clothes and sparring armor.”

“All laid out for you, Sire.”

“Is there a better valet in Ferelden, Fergus?”

Fergus and Egan exchanged grins.  “No.  And I should know.  I gave him up for you.”

“As you should for your king, Fergus.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Erlina knelt on the floor by her mistress.  Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Get up Erlina.”  Anora sounded tired, but spoke firmly.  “Pippa, do you know much about potions?”

Erlina stood as Pippa replied.  “Some, Your Majesty.”

“I suspected you might.  The Cousland healer is an herbalist isn’t she?”

“Yes and she’s here in Denerim with Fergus and Oriana.  She and Oren’s nurse, Freya always travel with them.”

“That is good news.  Do you think she can determine what is in this and render it harmless?  Make it seem like a bad batch?”

“She probably can.  I’ll  visit her today and find out.”  Pippa touched Erlina’s arm.  “I’ll need a sample.”

“What difference will this make, My Lady?”  Erlina whispered.

“You have several vials?”

“Yes.”

“You must give Pippa one of them.  We will ask Pippa’s friend to modify them,” Anora told her.  “Render them harmless.  When you give me the dose it won’t work.”

“Your Majesty, you can’t plan to take a potion!”  Pippa protested.

“Pippa, we need to be sure it is harmless and appears defective.  I will take it once.  If Nyla is as talented as you and the Couslands say, it will fail.  Then Erlina may truthfully tell her contact it did not work.  I won’t take it again.  Erlina can say she tried.  Eventually they will ask for the remaining vials.  Erlina will return them to her contact.  They will find them defective and she will not be blamed.”

“That’s…ingenious.”  Erlina said.

Pippa and Anora smiled at each other.  “Yes, it is.”  Pippa said.  “It’s good, you are so clever, Your Majesty.”

“Pippa, find out from Nyla what effects the ‘harmless potion’ will have when I take it.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Now,” Anora cautioned the two women, “not a word about this to anyone.  Nothing to Delilah and certainly not to Habren.  Nothing to the other Couslands, Pippa.  No one.”

Pippa and Erlina nodded.

“Nyla’s an old friend.  No one will question if I visit with her, Your Majesty.”

“What will you do with me?”  Erlina asked, more calmly.

“Nothing.  You will continue with your duties, Erlina.  You have more than confirmed my judgment.  You’re a good woman.  You serve me well.  I hope you will continue to do so.  If you can provide intelligence on the plans of your former employers all the better.”

Erlina stood wide-eyed.  “Thank you, My Lady.  I did not expect such kindness, even from you.”

“Erlina, I don’t know you’re story, but I cannot imagine it’s a happy one.  I can offer you safety and comfort here.  It’s not much, but it might be better than what you find elsewhere.”

Erlina bowed.  “Much better, My Lady.  I pledge myself to you until you release me.  I cannot tell you much, but I will tell you all I do know.”

Erlina went to her rooms and came back with a vial of the potion. 

Pippa curtsied to Anora.  “I’ll go now, Your Majesty, with your leave.”

“Thank you, Pippa.  Now Erlina, let’s go for a walk in the gardens.  I want to see if the roses have been properly pruned and we can talk.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The Warden Compound, a former armory, abutted the western Palace wall.  King Maric had given the space to the Wardens after he allowed them back into Ferelden almost twenty years before.  The old armory included practice yards, a smithy, a small stable, and storage rooms.  King Maric added barracks, several private rooms, a study for the Warden-Commander, a library, and a bath house.  Large enough to hold fifty or more Wardens, only twenty-two lived there after almost twenty years.  Only six were Fereldan.   

Fergus and Cailan walked into the Compound, surprised to find Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir in conversation with Warden-Commander Duncan.  Reputedly Fereldan by birth, Duncan grew up in Orlais and joined the Wardens there.  Duncan lacked an Orlesian accent although he spoke the language fluently.  His lack of an accent did not prevent him from annoying the Teyrn.  Fergus watched Loghain gesture angrily at something Duncan said.

“Again you reject a plan, suggested by Maric, which would help you recruit Fereldan wardens.  You say you need more wardens to scout the darkspawn in the south.  What will we get, more Orlesians to bolster your complement?”

“Fereldans seem reluctant to join us, Teyrn Loghain.  I have my orders to expand our complement here.”

“From where, Warden-Commander?  Weisshaupt or Montsimmard?”

Duncan bristled.  “As I am sure you know, Teyrn Loghain, orders may be relayed through multiple outposts.  Yes, orders often come to me through Montsimmard and Jader, but that does not change the fact that they originate at Weisshaupt.”

“Or that a clever bard could modify them en route.  Or that Orlais is influencing the First Warden.  Do they even consider Ferelden a separate command?  Or is your title complementary.  Who is _your_ commander, Warden-Commander?”

“Enough, Teyrn Loghain.  My answer remains no.  We have seen increased darkspawn activity in the Wilds.  We will monitor it.  Should we need assistance from Fereldan forces we will confer with King Cailan.”

Loghain threw his hands up in defeat.  Truth be told, the Wardens easily annoyed Loghain.  He resented their visit, almost twenty years before, when they had tricked King Maric, an all too willing conspirator, to travel with them to the deep roads.  He resented the Orlesian Wardens’ alliance with First Enchanter Remille, the Architect, and Orlais, which had almost resulted in Maric’s death.  He scoffed at Duncan and his predecessor’s efforts to rebuild their presence in Ferelden.  He and Maric had shared that particular concern.  _We both wondered why the Fereldan Wardens remained so weak._   _And so full of Orlesian wardens.  More than half of them come from Montsimmard and Jader.  Then when he became Warden-Commander, the stubborn fool rejected King Maric’s offer to assist Duncan’s recruiting._

Duncan and his Senior Wardens, all from elsewhere in Thedas, traveled Ferelden trolling for recruits at tourneys, in sparring yards, in dungeons and in town gaols.  Maric suggested the Wardens combine patrols with Maric’s Shield and Royal Shield, a common practice in Nevarra, the Free Marches and Orlais.  There mercenaries, royal Shields or a noble’s troops joined the Wardens on patrol.  Often the Wardens ended the joint exercise with a new recruit or two.  Both the previous Warden-Commander and then Duncan had rejected the offer saying the Wardens did not want to involve themselves in Fereldan politics.  _Why is it not politics in Nevarra?  Or Orlais, where I know they ride with Chevaliers?_   _Now he tells me darkspawn activity has increased and threatens to spill out of the Wilds.  That is my concern and he continues to reject our assistance.  Fool.  Well, we will address the threat alone if we must._

“Loghain, what brings you to enemy territory?”  Cailan grinned at his good-father.

“A fool’s errand,” Loghain growled.  “I’ve suggested we mount joint patrols with the Wardens against the darkspawn in the Wilds.  He’s declined.  Again.”

Cailan frowned.  “Why, Duncan?  It seems like a good option.  Don’t the Wardens in Orlais, Nevarra and the Free Marches join with regular troops?”

“They do, Your Highness.  Those alliances are ancient.  The Wardens train the troops to work with them.  The Fereldan troops are not so trained.”

“Are you saying our troops couldn’t be trained, Warden-Commander?”  The question had an edge to it.  

Duncan turned to the new voice.  A young noble, brown-haired and blue eyed stared back at him. 

“Fergus Cousland, Warden-Commander.  You know my father, I think.  You’ve recruited in Highever.”

Duncan saw the resemblance to Teyrn Bryce Cousland.  “I have, Your Lordship.  In answer to your question, Fereldan troops can be trained, Lord Cousland,  but that takes time and trainers.  Time and trainers I do not have, given that I have so few wardens.”

“That seems like circular reasoning, Warden-Commander.  We can’t have joint patrols because you don’t have the Wardens to train the patrols that might provide more wardens.  So you take pot luck at tourneys and among the thieves and scoundrels in our prisons?”

Duncan flushed.

“Excellent points, Fergus.  What’s your answer, _Warden-Commander_?  Or do you need to send to Montsimmard… excuse me Weisshaupt for instructions?” 

“Loghain.”  Cailan snapped impatiently.

“If you’ll excuse me, Your Majesty, I’ll take my leave.”

“A good idea, Loghain.  Perhaps Fergus and I can continue this discussion with Duncan in a more civil manner.”

Loghain glared at his son-in-law, spun on his heel and stalked out.

“Well, if I wasn’t wide awake before, I am now.  I think that glare was meant for me, alone.  A reaction to my evening out with Teagan, I suppose.”  Cailan turned to Duncan.  “I must say I agree with Loghain’s suggestion, however.  Perhaps we can work out some small joint patrol.  Afterall, the safety of my people is involved.  It would be normal to send the Shield if darkspawn threaten the Hinterlands or Southron Hills.  We would want to coordinate with your wardens, even if we patrol separately.  Where is your base of operations?”

Fergus smiled.  _If only Cailan would combine his common sense and charm more often._ _He’s not stupid.  Just monumentally stubborn and self-absorbed._

Duncan pulled on his beard.  His instructions directed him to refuse joint patrols.  He sometimes wondered if that was wise, but followed his orders.  The First Warden and his advisors did not want to become embroiled in Fereldan politics as they had in the past.  Support for allowing the Wardens to return to Ferelden had been limited.  Many in the Landsmeet, including Teyrn Loghain, had opposed it quite vocally.  Confidence had built as Maric ruled Ferelden well, but dropped again with his disappearance and death. 

Weisshaupt had instructed the first Fereldan Warden-Commander and then Duncan to keep his distance from Maric’s Shield and the various Guard units.  With Maric’s death those orders remained in place.  Weisshaupt also designated the Orlesian Warden-Commander as a mentor to his Fereldan counterpart.  Few orders came directly to Ferelden; most passed through Montsimmard first.  Orlesian Wardens did look on Fereldan Wardens as their protégés.  Everywhere else the Wardens had alliances with the local troops.  In Ferelden, they did not.  Ferelden had so few wardens, Weisshaupt expected, in fact depended on, the Orlesian strategy.  Orlesian wardens and their allied Chevaliers would enter Ferelden in support of the Ferelden wardens if needed.  In many ways, Loghain’s insinuations about Orlesian influence held a grain of truth.  Perhaps the First Warden did not intend this, but it was the consequence of Weisshaupt’s orders.

Weisshaupt’s greatest fear was that Fereldan would refuse Orlesian help should there be a large darkspawn incursion or, Maker forbid, a Blight.  Orlesian wardens and chevaliers could pour across the border to aid Fereldan, but only if the Fereldans didn’t oppose them.  A small Fereldan force could defend the border passes through the Frostbacks, keeping the Wardens and Chevaliers out.  As if territorial ownership mattered during a Blight Weisshaupt would argue.    

To guard against this risk, Duncan’s wardens, most of whom would not be Fereldan, had orders to join with the Orlesians, should the worst happen and not be deterred by outdated Fereldan prejudices.  The Fereldan troops would be included in any actions, of course, under Orlesian warden command.  If Ferelden resisted coordinated action, the Chevaliers and Wardens would try to fight through the passes, even if that meant waiting until the Fereldan forces became too weak to hold the passes and fight the Blight too.  No one wanted to lose Ferelden, but if the Fereldan’s would not help themselves, the Wardens would do what they must to protect Orlais and the rest of Thedas. 

Duncan considered his options.  He did not want to alienate the King.  His attitudes might foster more cooperation in the future.  _My orders specifically prohibit joint patrols, but perhaps I could send a warden with a Ferelden patrol.  A common base seems like a reasonable compromise, as long as the camps are separate.  Perhaps I should invite King Cailan to join us and see how we operate. That should smooth things over.  No secrets will be divulged._

Duncan replied to Cailan. _“_ A valid point, Your Majesty.  Perhaps a contingent of Maric’s Shield at Ostagar makes sense.  They could learn simply by being there and paying attention.  We can coordinate patrols.  No joint patrols, but maybe send a warden with your Shield patrol when it goes out.”  Duncan nodded.  “I agree, Your Majesty.  Send your Shield Commander, Cauthrien isn’t it?  We’ll discuss it further.  And Your Majesty, perhaps you should visit the base.  See how we operate.”

Cailan grinned.  “That would be superb, Duncan.  I’d like to see these monsters first hand.”

“Well, I’m not sure we can promise that, Your Majesty,” Duncan noticed Fergus shaking his head.

“Of course not, but I can always hope.  I should know our enemies.”

“…yes of course Your Majesty.  At the least you can meet with our wardens.”

“Thank you, Duncan.  I’ll let Loghain and Cauthrien know.  Your discussion will be with both of them.”  Cailan turned to Fergus.  “Perhaps you should join them, Fergus.  Play mediator?  Yes, I think that’s a good plan.”  He turned back to Duncan.  “Fergus will be your contact, Duncan.  He can smooth things over if necessary and report back to me.  Now, I have a sparring match with your giant Anders.  And Fergus has one with a Free Marcher.  We’ll leave you to your duties.”

Duncan sighed as the king and Lord Cousland walked toward the practice yards.  _What I don’t need is Loghain interfering.  We’ll see how the Cousland boy works out for now._  

**9:28 Dragon  12 Solace  ===  Forest Outside of Denerim**

Cailan and Loghain laughed at Fergus’ embarrassment.  The three men had been up at dawn ready to hunt deer.  They had ridden out from Denerim the day before with twenty troops from Maric’s Shield and three huntsmen.  They set up camp some miles from the city.  Fergus preferred hunting boar with a spear.  Spears he wielded well.  Loghain excelled at hunting with bow and arrow.  Cailan also shot well.  It was something he enjoyed and practiced.  Fergus did not shoot well.  Never had. 

While Fergus had not planned to shoot, he could track.  When they left the camp on foot, that is all he expected to do.  Yielding to persistent teasing, Fergus agreed to carry a bow and quiver.  He soon regretted it.  Loghain and Cailan, both suppressing grins, offered him the first shot and, of course, he had missed and the deer had run.  Finally, he turned to his companions.

“You both know I can’t shoot.  Why is this so funny?  I said I’d come along to track and let you too shoot.  Tracking I can do.”

“You pull up at the last moment.”  Loghain said.

“I know.  I always have.  The more I try not to the worse it gets.  Believe me, my mother, my sister and the archery master all tried to teach me.” 

“Perhaps we’ve tortured you enough today.”  Loghain looked at Cailan who nodded, still chuckling.

“We’ll come back empty handed if we continue.  That will embarrass us all.”

The three tracked and killed two deer by mid-day.

Loghain turned to the huntsmen and Shield following them.  “Let’s field dress this buck and get the meat back to the palace right away.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” the head huntsman replied.  “We’ll take care of it.  Perhaps you, King Cailan and Lord Fergus might go on and eat while we finish here.”

“Good thought.  Do I remember correctly?  Is there a pond just to the west near that height of land?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Good.  We’ll head there for our meal.  Your father and I used to go there when we hunted, Cailan.”  He looked at Fergus.  “At least you can sit your horse, even if you can’t shoot.”  He laughed.  “Remember Lys’ horse archery phase?”

“Of course, we use horse archers now.  So do the Wrath.”

Loghain raised his eyebrows.  “Do you?  I suppose I should know that shouldn’t I?”

“About Highever, I would think so.  Not the Wrath.”

“Any way, after Maric heard about it, he decided to try it.”

“Father?”  Cailan sounded completely incredulous.  “Father tried to ride and shoot at the same time.”

Loghain laughed, a full, throaty laugh.  “He did.  He had his horse, Hafter, at a walk.  He even managed to raise the bow and nock the arrow before he fell off.  The arrow,” Loghain laughed harder, “the arrow ended up in his butt.  I have no idea how, but there it stuck.  It wasn’t deep.  Just a scratch.  We were near this pond and he pulled the arrow out, limped over and plopped his bottom in the water.  He was such a baby when he had a scratch.  I’ve seen him fight with awful wounds, but a scratch?  You would think he was about to die.”

“I wish I’d been there.”  Cailan chuckled.  “An arrow in his butt?”

“I don’t know why you weren’t.”  Loghain shrugged.

“I do.  It was probably my _avoid father_ phase.  Something I regret now.” 

Loghain and Fergus both looked at Cailan, surprised.  He rarely expressed regret.  “Learn from it Cailan.  Make the best use of your time with family and friends.”

Cailan nodded.  “Speaking of time with family and friends, what about Alistair.  When will you go to the Peak, Loghain?”

“Tomorrow.  I sent a note to Knight-Captain Aaron before we left.  He’ll have Alistair ready to join me at the Dragon’s Rest when I get there.  We’ll spend the night, then go for a ride in the morning.  To Denerim.  He’ll be at the palace by night fall.”

“Sounds too simple,” Fergus muttered.

“We ride every time I go, Fergus.  They won’t think anything of it.  They don’t check up on him at the Rest.  They won’t know he’s gone until he doesn’t return after three days.”

“Why haven’t you done this before?”

“Should have.  Should have when I visited in Drakonis.  That would have been the perfect time.  We’ll fix it now.”

Cailan nodded.  “My fault, Fergus.  I’ve been stupid, cowardly, afraid of the Chantry.”

“Did you tell Anora our plan?”  Loghain asked

Cailan laughed.  “No and before you say it, yes she’ll be furious.  I just thought the fewer who know the better.  I don’t trust Erlina.”

“Ah, a point.  I’ve never understood her trust in the elf,” Loghain shook his head.  “She will be angry that we haven’t told her.  And then she’ll be thrilled that he’s safe with us.”

“These are the nights I’m glad we have separate suites.”  He looked at Loghain and Fergus, both frowning.  “What?  She’s pregnant, Loghain.  She kicks me out saying she wants to sleep alone.  It’s not that we don’t…well before…we still…talk.”

Fergus chuckled as Loghain glowered at his son-in-law.

“I think you need to move on, Cailan.  More information than we need, perhaps.”  Fergus smiled.  “Although I do remember nights spent in my childhood room, when Oriana couldn’t sleep.  It’s pretty normal, I guess.  At least Da….well it’s normal.”  _Maker, we each have a list of topics we need to avoid with each other._

The three men pulled their meal out of the satchel they had brought with them.  The Shield had settled at the far end of the pond.  The huntsmen were some distance away, in the forest, still dressing the deer.

“Teyrn Loghain, do you support the compromise Cailan agreed with Duncan?”

Loghain cocked his head and smiled.  “Right to the point, Fergus?”

Fergus shrugged.  “I thought you would appreciate it.”

“I do, Fergus, I do.  And,” he looked at Cailan, “it’s a good compromise.  Better than your father or I ever got.”

Cailan grinned, but said nothing. 

“You speak for us when we meet, Fergus.  You and Cauthrien can work it out.  I’ll just sit back and listen.  I still don’t trust Duncan or the Wardens, but better we know them and keep them close.”

“That will be a first,” Cailan muttered.  “Oh, sorry, did I speak out loud?”

Loghain snorted.  “Yes, Your Majesty, you did, but I promise.  I will remain silent.”

Loghain leaned back against a tree trunk and closed his eyes.  A stream ran into the pond from the north.  He could hear it flowing over stones down the hillside.  Fergus started skipping stones. 

“This is almost like old times,” Cailan said quietly.  “We’re just missing Alistair and Nate.”

Loghain frowned and opened one eye.  Fergus gave him a sidelong glance and then swore as the next stone sank.

“You don’t think I miss them?  Both of them?  Maker, Howe never held services or anything for Nate, only announced he’d died with the family he served.  Who were Howe’s cousins, by the way.  The man has no feelings, apparently.  And don’t you think I wanted Alistair acknowledged?  I badgered father for years.”

“Cailan, we know,” Fergus said gently.

“It’s my fault though.  I could have acknowledged him.  I’m worse than Father.  Loghain, do you know why Eamon is so against it?  He always mumbles about serving Andraste and the Templars being an honor and other nonsense.  Howe’s motives I understand.  Marrying him to Delilah gains him status and power, but Eamon?  Why does he hate Alistair?”

“I don’t think he hates him Cailan.  I think he wants to use him.”

“Against me?”

“Well, that’s the question isn’t it?  Eamon’s ambitious.  As long as he can influence you he doesn’t need….”

“I don’t believe he means me harm, Loghain.”

“I don’t know, Cailan.  I do think he wants Alistair under his control or the Chantry’s.”

Perhaps he thinks Alistair will go to Orlais if he’s free.”

Fergus snorted.  “Seriously Cailan?”

“I don’t know him.  I only have Loghain’s word that he’s loyal to me.”

“And my word isn’t good enough?”

“No, not your word.  His.  Could he be fooling you?”

“No.  Lying’s not something Theirin men do well.”

“Oh.  Well, that is true.”

“Look, Cailan, I’ll bring him back in a few days and you can decide for yourself.  There’s a month before the Landsmeet.  More than enough time to get to know him again, to negotiate the marriage with Delilah Howe and to gather the witnesses to testify.  Announce the betrothal at Satinalia.  Celebrate the marriage on Summerday.”

Cailan saw Fergus glaring at Loghain.  “Fergus?”

“Who’s going to tell Lys?”

Loghain and Cailan both flinched. 

“I know, it’s Howe’s price.  What if Alistair refuses.  Goes back to the Chantry?  Have you thought of that?”

“Perhaps we should offer him an out.”  Cailan said.  “Not marrying your sister, Fergus.  That would be a slap in the face to Howe.  Let him join the Wardens.  It’s an honorable duty.”

“What!  Absolutely not.  That’s as bad as the Chantry, maybe worse.  You’d be handing him into Orlesian control again.  You can’t be serious, Cailan.”

“It’s not.  He’d be the perfect liaison between Duncan and the Shield.  My brother, a Warden.  Glorious.”

“Aren’t there risks?”  Fergus asked.

“Well of course.  Just like there are risks being in the Shield.”  Cailan replied.

“No, I mean more serious risks.  Some initiation they have to pass?  I remember Lys mentioning them.”

“I don’t agree with Cailan, but other than being around darkspawn more than the rest of us, I don’t think there’s a serious risk.  In fact, don’t they have some way of blocking the darkspawn sickness?  That doesn’t sound like a bad thing.”

Fergus shrugged.  “Seems like two bad choices.  Marry Delilah Howe or become a Warden.”

“Are you suggesting he stay in the Chantry and become a templar?”

Maker, no.  That’s three bad choices.  I’d suggest he go join Hrothgar’s Wrath and marry Lys, but I’d lose.”  Fergus had his back to them, still skipping stones.  His next one hopped fifteen times.

“Excellent, Fergus.  A perfect skip.”  Cailan waited for Fergus to respond.  When he did not, Cailan continued.  “Howe’s price for agreeing to acknowledge Alistair is marriage to Delilah.  We can’t succeed in the Landsmeet without his support.  I’m sorry Fergus.  I hold nothing against your sister.  She’s as innocent in this as Alistair, but we need Howe.  Besides, they haven’t seen each other for what, ten years?  Did they even know my father agreed to the betrothal?  I don’t think so.”

“No, you’re right Cailan.  Delilah’s a pleasant girl.  I just wouldn’t want Howe for a good-father.”   _No sense making him angry at me or Lys.  She knows, but when it actually happens and there’s no hope…no wonder she won’t speak of it to Mum._

“Well, we all have our difficulties,” Cailan retorted.  “Look at my good father.”

Loghain snorted.  “Speaking of spouses, when do you plan to tell Anora?”

“When Alistair is safely in the palace.  Seeing he’s settled will give her something to do instead of being angry at us.”

“Good plan.  Sometimes, Cailan, I have hope for you.”

Cailan scowled at a Loghain and then stood.  “Let’s get back to camp.  Will you leave us on the road tomorrow and go directly to the Peak?”

“Yes.  It seemed the best way.  No one in Denerim will know I’ve gone.”

Fergus grinned.  “You’re stealthier than people think, Teyrn Loghain.”

It’s a tactical move Fergus.  A feint if you will.  Stealth has nothing to do with it.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Maric’s Shield broke camp just as the sun came up the next morning.  The Shield Captain persuaded Cailan, Loghain and Fergus to wear chainmail under their leathers for the ride back to Denerim.  Loghain and Fergus had complied, but Cailan came out of his tent wearing hunting leathers.

The Shield Captain looked at his King.  “Just to be on the safe side, Your Majesty, please wear the chain armor.  I know you’re hunting leathers are more comfortable, but there are bandits now and then on these back roads.”

“Bandits.  Attacking Maric’s Shield and the King!”

Loghain frowned.  “It’s not a bad suggestion, Cailan. 

Fergus agreed.  “We’re not on the West Road for miles yet, Your Majesty.  I’m sure your Shield will send out scouts, but we should take precautions too.”

“Fine.  I’ll wear the chain.”  Cailan  returned to his tent.

“You’re still very good with him.”

“Sometimes,” Fergus replied.  “Not when he wants to go to brothels with Teagan.  Not when I want to discuss my father.  I try.”

“We all do, Fergus.  He’s even more vexing than Maric and that’s saying something.”

The group set out with the Shield forming a square around the three nobles.  The Shield Captain sent four troops out to scout ahead on either side of the road.

They had not ridden too far when shouts and the sound of metal on metal echoed through the forest.  Two scouts, riding hard, pulled beside the Shield Captain.  “An ambush ahead, ser.  We saw it too late to avoid them.  We managed to get away.  Perhaps they’ll think there were only two scouts and won’t know we alerted you.  Either way they’ll follow.”

“How many?”

“Not sure.  At least a dozen, maybe more.  All well armored in splint mail or chain, but not in heavy plate.”

“Archers?”  Loghain asked.

“None, that I saw, Your Grace.”

Loghain quickly surveyed the terrain.  “Quickly, let’s ride back to the height of land we just crossed.  There’s a large stream, running high to the west.  We can anchor a line there.  The steep terrain to the east will make flanking difficult, but not impossible.  We’ll just have to shield that flank.” 

The Shield Captain nodded and the group galloped back to the location Loghain had described.  He deployed his troops as Loghain suggested, keeping the King and two nobles just right of center, towards the stream.  “You, Lord Fergus and King Cailan can ride back along the stream if things go badly.  You might find a place to cross.”

Loghain nodded.  “Captain, just fight you’re best.  I’ll worry about running if it becomes necessary.  Right now we’re all in this together.”  He turned to Cailan and Fergus.  “If I tell you two to run, you go.  No questions.  No arguments.  You go.  It’s likely the target is me.”  He grimaced.  “It usually is.”

“What do you mean, Loghain?”

“I mean, I’ve been the target of assassins many times.  So go, if I tell you.”  He saw Cailan start to speak.  “Cailan, I’ll tell you about it when we get to the palace.  All the stories.  Now is not the time.”

Fergus touched Cailan’s shoulder.  He got an annoyed glance in return, but Cailan stopped speaking.

The four scouts the Shield Captain had left behind when they dropped back, returned. 

There are fourteen armored men riding down the road.  They’re still more than a mile away.  We heard others, probably scouts, in the forest on either side.  They’re just off the road.  They haven’t penetrated very far.  If we go in farther, we can circle behind them.  Once we take care of the scouts, we can start to pick off the last riders on the road with our bows.”

“A good plan,” Loghain agreed.  “Just don’t alert the bandits on the road when you’re taking down the scouts.  Don’t start shooting at the bandits on the road too soon.  We want them to attack us here, not turn and attack you four.  We can’t afford to have the whole group pick us off piecemeal.”

The scouts circled around the enemy’s scouts.  Fortunately the scouts rode ahead of their comrades.  The farthest out were easily dispatched with little noise.  The scouts took care of the two closest to the road and then shadowed the bandits until they got within a quarter mile of the King and Shield troops.  At that point, they began shooting, taking the last two bandits down with well-placed shots, then riding ahead to warn the Shield Captain and Loghain of the bandits approach.

“They almost upon us, ser.  We killed the scouts and two of the bandits are down.  They may only be wounded.  Their horses ran off.”

“Well done,” Loghain said.  “Now let’s take out the rest.”

Although fierce, the battle did not last long.  Loghain and the eighteen troops soon defeated the remaining twelve bandits.  Fergus and Cailan had joined in, much to Loghain’s dismay.  Although he had to credit Fergus with staying at Cailan’s side and protecting him.  Both men fought with great swords, unlike Loghain who preferred sword and shield.  The great sword’s length kept the bandits, who used dual blades or sword and shield, at bay.  As he battled, he heard the bandits shouting.  _Leave the King.  Don’t harm the King.  Get the Teyrn._

_So it is me they want.  Well, they won’t get me today._

Once the bandits all fell, Loghain and the Shield Captain searched for survivors.  They found two.  They sent troops to find the two who had been shot on the road.  One of them still lived.  The ones killed in the forest, they would leave. 

In the meantime, King Cailan and Fergus checked their own wounded and fallen. In addition to the two scouts lost earlier, three more Shield troops died in the battle and five more had injuries severe enough to require immediate attention.  Two of the Shield troops gathered potions and poultices and saw to the wounded.  Cailan directed several of the troops to gather wood and build a pyre.  He ordered others to gather the bodies and pile them together next to the road.  Once the pyre was built, they would burn all the dead. 

“You’re more than common bandits.  Who sent you?”  Loghain asked one of the survivors.  They wore no insignia, so he could not discern their rank.

“I’m a mercenary.  I go where I’m sent no questions asked.  I don’t know who hired us.”  The mercenary looked toward the prisoner sitting next to him and nodded.  “Ask him.  He’s our captain.”  Loghain guessed the man, from his accent, came from the Marches.

The prisoner was rewarded with a glare from his Captain. 

“So, who sent you?”

“I don’t know any more than he does.  I don’t make the deals, I just complete them.  Our orders were to let the King live and kill the Teyrn and any other nobles with him.  We expected the Shield to take the King and ride off, leaving us to finish off the rest.”

“You miscalculated,” Loghain said.

The mercenary captain snorted.  “A bit,   Your King is a fighter, your Shield as well and you and the other noble – well, I’ve rarely seen the like.  Apparently our employer did not realize what we would face.”

“It’s something you’re employer has always done, I think.  If my guess is correct.”

The mercenary captain frowned.  “The man who spoke with our leader was Fereldan.  At least his accent was Fereldan when he spoke the common tongue.  I cannot say for whom he worked.  He was clearly a messenger, not the principal.”

Cailan and Fergus joined the group around the prisoners.  Loghain exchanged a glance with Fergus.  “That Society you’ve spoken of?”

“Perhaps,” answered Loghain.  “We can’t tell from his story.”

“What do we do with them, Your Grace?”  asked the Shield Captain.

“Take them to Fort Drakon.  I’ll not play judge and executioner here, unless His Majesty orders it.”  He looked at Cailan.

“No, Loghain is right.  We’ll take them to Denerim with us.  Gather what horses you can find.  They’ll need mounts.  We’ll take the rest with us for the Shield’s own stables.”

With a stream nearby to supply water and relatively open ground under the tall trees providing space for their tents, the Shield set up camp for the night.  They needed to treat their wounded, burn their dead and recover from the battle.  They would set out for Denerim in the morning.

“I need to get to Dragon’s Peak today,” Loghain told Cailan, Fergus and the Shield Captain as he mounted Caradoc.  “If you agree, Your Majesty, I’ll have two Shield troops accompany me as far as the road to Dragon’s Peak.  They can continue into Denerim to let Anora know you’re delayed.  They’ll have orders to report only to her, so no one, who might be interested, will know the attack failed until you return.”

“I agree, Loghain.  The situation here is well in hand.  We’ll be ready to leave at first light.”   

Fergus and the Shield Captain nodded their agreement.

“Good.  I’ll see you tomorrow night in Denerim then.”  Loghain smiled.  “With good news if all goes well.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome comments, encouragement, suggestions and critiques. 
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her efforts. Her astute comments improve every post. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. Special thanks to those who Reviewed, most recently my thanks go to: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, nh09jrb, KatDancer2, nymra and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. Knowing others enjoy the story inspires me.


	48. My Enemies Are Abundant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:28 Dragon Solace; Dragon's Peak and Denerim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

 “Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

 **Chapter 48–** **MY ENEMIES ARE ABUNDANT**

 

* * *

**9** **:28 Dragon   5 Solace  ===  Dragon’s Peak Monastery**

The arrival of Knight-Captain Ieuan and Revered Mother Nest surprised Mother Hilda.  Revered Mother Nest barged into Hilda’s study unannounced, while Ieuan waited outside.  She spoke brusquely, without preamble.

“Mother Hilda, I am to replace you.”  Mother Nest waved a parchment as she spoke.  “I expect to occupy the Revered Mother’s apartment and study by Vespers tomorrow.  You should be ready to leave on the following morning, immediately after Terce.  You and Knight-Captain Aaron will be escorted to your new post at the Chantry in Llanberys.”

“By whose-“

“-Grand Cleric Elemena of course.  And Knight-Commander Greagoire, following the orders of the Knight-Vigilant.”  She handed Hilda the stiff parchment festooned with wax and ribbons.  “Who else can authorize your replacement and Knight-Captain Aaron’s?  Now let’s go see your Knight-Captain or, rather Knight-Lieutenant, Aaron.  The Knight-Captain, who will replace him, has his orders.”  Revered Mother Nest strode out, stopping only to wait for Hilda to stand, compose herself, and follow her successor.

“Knight- _Lieutenant_ Aaron?”

Aaron looked up from his worktable, brow creased at the title.  A Revered Mother and Knight-Captain he didn’t know stood before him.  Hilda, standing behind them, appeared disturbed.

“It’s-“

“-I am Revered Mother Nest, the head of Dragon’s Peak Monastery and School.  I have orders for you from Knight-Commander Greagoir.  Be assured he sends these at the behest of Grand Cleric Elemena and the Knight-Vigilant.  Knight-Captain Ieuan will replace you effective immediately.  You will vacate you quarters and place yourself at his disposal until your departure.”  She handed Aaron a parchment similar to the one Hilda held.  “You will note that I addressed you correctly, _Knight-Lieutenant_.

“Knight-Captain Ieuan, you know what you must do.  The offending initiates must be identified and secured until you leave.  The monastery to which they have been assigned is on the way to Llanberys.  Knight-Captain Madyn’s patrol can escort them as well.  

“Now, Hilda, show me to your guest quarters .  I will reside there until the apartments have been cleaned and readied for me.”

“I’ll get-“

“-you will get no one.  You will show me yourself.”  Revered Mother Hilda frowned, but complied.  The two women departed, leaving the new Knight-Captain to speak with Aaron.

“Knight-Lieutenant Aaron,  where is your second?”

“Knight-Lieutenant Gwyn should be on duty in the entry.”

 “Ask him to come here.  I require he bring two initiates to me.”  Knight-Captain Ieuan sat at the worktable. 

“Which two initiates, Knight-Captain?”

Ieuan looked up, annoyed, but replied, “Cuthbert and Ronald.  Get the Knight-Lieutenant, now, Aaron.  Then go pack and vacate your room.  I assume there is a guest room you can occupy for two nights.  You may take one chest.  Knight-Captain Madyn has a cart, which will carry your chest and the Revered Mother’s belongings.  The two initiates may carry what will fit into their packs.”

Knight-Lieutenant Aaron called Gwyn into the study, then left for his quarters.  Once there he broke the seal on the parchment.  The words swam before him as he sat on his bed.  _Failure to perform assigned duties…encouraging lack of discipline among initiates…inadequate punishment…tolerance of insubordination._ The list of charges continued.  The orders broke him in rank to Knight-Lieutenant and ordered him to a Chantry in…Llanberys?

Dragon’s Peak had run like a well-oiled machine under his guidance for ten years.  He and Revered Mother Hilda maintained a strict regimen for templar initiates, lay students, and Chantry initiates alike.  What had precipitated this?  And Cuthbert and Ronald?  _Maker this is about Alistair.  The boy who looks too much like the old King.  But, he is not mentioned._ He shook his head. _Nothing I can do now.  That’s planned too.  I should send word to the Teyrn, but there’s no way I can._

Aaron set about packing his chest and pack.  He left the chest to be moved to the cart.  He took his pack to the guest room, then went to his former study.  “Knight-Captain Ieuan, the quarters are cleared except for my chest.”

“Good.  Have it moved to the guest quarters and have my things moved in.  You’re excused.  I‘ll call you should I have questions.  Do not leave the grounds.”

Aaron nodded, found a porter to move the chests, and returned to the guest room.  _Llanberys?_ He pulled out a map of Ferelden _.  Maker’s Breath, it’s almost in in the Korcari Wilds._ He looked at a small village southeast of Redcliffe in the Hinterlands.  A small monastery lay between the village and Redcliffe.  _That must be where Ronald and Cuthbert will be sent._   _Well there should be good hunting and few responsibilities.  Maybe that’s not a bad thing.  I wonder what they plan for Alistair?_

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Alistair sat in the armory sharpening his long sword, when the Knight-Lieutenant came in for Ronald and Cuthbert.  They looked up in surprise. 

“What did we do, Gwyn?”  Cuthbert asked.

“Don’t know.  Something’s going on, but I don’t know what it is.  There’s an extra Revered Mother and Knight-Captain running around.”

“What!”

“Look, I was asked to bring you two to see the new Knight-Captain.  At least I think he’s replacing Aaron ‘cause he’s sitting behind Aaron’s table and ordering Aaron about.  That’s all I know.”

“You don’t want me too?”  Alistair asked, puzzled.

“Shockingly, Alistair, no.  Your name didn’t come up.  Maybe they’re waiting to give you special treatment.”

Cuthbert asked to clean up, but Gwyn told them the new Knight-Captain said to come as they were.  Cuthbert waved cheerily as they left.  “See you in the kitchens, Ali.” 

The Knight-Captain said little beyond telling them they would leave Dragon’s Peak for a smaller monastery in the west.  He had them escorted to their cubicles to pack their belongings.  Gwyn took them to holding cells in the armory.  They saw no one as they packed and walked to the cells.

“I’m sorry, boys.  Knight-Captain’s orders,” he said as he closed the heavy doors and locked them.

The next day Gwyn took them to the bathhouse, which had been cleared.  “Clean up and dress for travel.  That’s all I know.” 

Once the young men had bathed and dressed, Gwyn took them back to the cells.  Aaron, Hilda, Cuthbert and Ronald were gone the next morning.  In less than two days, the new Knight-Captain and Revered Mother had made their predecessors and two boys disappear.  Life at Dragon’s Peak went on  as if they had never existed. 

Revered Mother Nest and Knight-Captain Ieuan kept the routine set by their predecessors.  Ieuan observed classes and training, but did not interfere.  He held an inspection, but found few infractions.  He did not single Alistair out.  Four people had disappeared with no explanation, but beyond that, nothing changed.  Everyone wondered what the four had done to be removed, but none dared voice their questions.  Alistair set about adjusting to the new regime and the absence of his friends. 

**9:28 Dragon 13 Solace  ===  Dragon’s Peak Monastery**

Another Knight-Lieutenant and patrol arrived a week later.  This time the patrol came from the Denerim monastery.

“Bring Initiate Alistair to my study, Gwyn.”

Gwyn went to the class where he knew he would find the  initiate.  “Alistair, Knight-Captain wants to see you.”

“Right.  As I am?”

“Yep.”

Alistair sighed.  _I’ve done nothing wrong.  Why do I think it’s my turn to disappear?_   Alistair followed Gwyn to the study.  He entered and saluted the Knight-Captain.

“Initiate Alistair?”

“Yes, Ser.”

“You will pack your belongings and present yourself here.  Knight-Lieutenant Gwyn will accompany you to your cubicle.  You will speak to no one.”

“Yes, Ser.”

Alistair went to his cubicle. _I suspect this is where I’m happy to have so few possessions._   He emptied his chest stuffing smalls, tunics and trousers, arming clothes, eating utensils, flints, dagger, comb, parchment, quills, ink, his drawings and Lys’ letters into his pack.  He looked around the cubicle, but saw nothing else he could take.  He wore his armor and second set of arming clothes.  His weapons were in the armory.  The books and scrolls belonged to the library.

“Ready, Gwyn.”

He presented himself to the Knight-Captain.  Three templars stood to one side of the doorway. 

“You will be taken into custody and moved to the Monastery in Denerim.  You will hear the charges against you and learn your punishment once you arrive there.  May Andraste have mercy on you, Initiate.”

Alistair did not move.  “Charges-“

Hands grabbed his arms pulling him out of the study before he could finish.  The templars took him to the entry hall.  The bound his hands in front of him.

“You’ll stay in a cell tonight.  We leave at first light.” 

The templars pushed him into a cell.  His hands remained bound.  A mattress lay on the floor.  His pack had been placed on top of it.  He sat on the mattress, leaned against his pack, and tried to sleep.

**9:28 Dragon 14 Solace  ===  Dragon’s Peak Monastery**

 “You will march in silence prisoner.  You’re former Knight-Captain may have tolerated mage lovers.  In Denerim, we don’t.  Let’s move out.”

_“Mage lovers?”_

The march to Denerim proved more uncomfortable than the double time run down the mountain with Knight-Captain Harlow.  Before he left his cell, they had released his bonds, briefly, to allow him to shoulder his pack.  Now the pack chaffed and he could not adjust it.  The rope burned his wrists.  The constant tug on the lead rope, attached to the bonds kept, him off balance. 

Even so, the patrol surrounding him seemed surprised that he kept up so easily.  _If double time wouldn’t tire_ them _out, I suspect they would make me run down the damn mountain._   He had time to think as they marched.  _Mage lover?  That usually meant someone who hid or helped an apostate.  They couldn’t mean the food we gave to Anders and Cat?  That was over a year ago and no one escaped.  Maker, I wonder if anyone knows this is happening.  I wonder if I’m going to Denerim Monastery or to the docks?_

As they approached Denerim, the forest thinned and small farmholds appeared.  He had been to Denerim as a boy, but then his view had been through holes in the canvas cover of a cart.  Now, as they crested a hill, he beheld the whole panorama of Ferelden’s capitol city spread out before him.  Farmholds came first leading to the more closely spaced buildings outside the city wall.  On the western horizon, the sea shimmered, while masts showed the location of the docks.  On a hill in the distance, Fort Drakon raised its tower.  Between the docks and Fort Drakon, the city climbed the hills as they rose above the sea.  In spite of himself, he gaped at the view.  It made the Higheverport he remembered so well look small. 

Denerim was larger, more crowded, noisier, and dirtier than anywhere he had ever been.  As a boy, he had not been allowed to wander away from the Redcliffe estate.  His memories of Denerim were fragmented and insubstantial.  In addition to the limited views from the cart, he had caught glimpses of the market from the Estate gateway, and walked to the nearby Chantry when the Arlessa demanded it of the staff. 

Now, as they traversed the city, he saw its size and diversity.  Elves scurried about, heads down, unlike those he remembered from Highever.  The humans ignored them or pushed them out of the way.  He even noticed the occasional dwarf.  Voices spoke the common tongue, but with a variety of accents.  Similar to Highever and every other port city in Thedas, he heard snatches of other languages woven through the din of merchants touting their wares, dogs barking, carts creaking, horses clopping, bells ringing and smiths pounding metal.  The templars themselves clanked as they moved in their armor, their leader yelling to the crowds to make way.  Humans and elves both stepped aside for the templar patrol.  Some noticed Alistair’s bound hands and pointed.  The templars surrounding him precluded any ruder actions using fruit or stones.  Bystanders did not want wanted to miss the prisoner and hit a templar guard instead.  Fortunately, he wore his tin pot helmet so no one saw his face or his resemblance to the King.

The templars marched him through an area of decent houses and shops, crossed a river – _it must be the Drakon_ – and entered a market area that looked familiar.  He looked around.  _That’s the Redcliffe Estate.  The Chantry should be just ahead._ It was, but the Monastery stood outside the walls beyond the Chantry.  They exited the town through a second gate.  He guessed, from the position of the late afternoon sun that this gate faced northeast.  The town wall formed one boundary of the Denerim Monastery grounds.  Three more walls created a square enclosure for the Monastery buildings housing templars  
and brothers alike.  The patrol from Dragon’s Peak turned into the Monastery forecourt through a large gateway. 

“Take the prisoner to his cell.”

Alistair expected a dungeon.  The simple room with a bunk, small chest, table and stool was a pleasant surprise.  It was larger than his cubicle at Dragon’s Peak and more private.  He guessed it faced an interior courtyard.  A small window,  high on one wall, let in air and what remained of daylight.

“You’ll remain here until summoned,” his guard ordered as he removed the ropes from Alistair’s wrists.  The templar left, locking the door and taking Alistair’s pack with him.

Alistair removed his armor and rubbed his sore wrists and shoulders.  There was candle on the table, but no flint to light it.  A pitcher of water, a basin and a cup stood on the table.  He  saw no food.  There was an empty waste pail in the corner.  His stomach rumbled.  He had eaten nothing since his arrest yesterday.  He lay down on the bed, deciding sleep was his best option.

**9:28 Dragon 15 Solace  ===  Denerim Chantry and Monastery**

A templar roused Alistair before Prime bells.  He held a lantern.

“Get up.  You’ve been ordered to bathe.  Come along to the bathhouse.”

Alistair got up.  He still wore his arming clothes from the day before.  He followed the templar to the baths.  When he arrived, he found his pack, which contained clean smalls, tunic, hose, and arming clothes.  He would put on his templar armor when he returned to his room. 

Back in his room, chilled but clean, he realized that the sun had risen and the window let in enough light to see the meal on the table. 

“Eat,” the templar ordered.  “You’ll be called later.”

Alistair ate the porridge slowly.  It  was good. Thick, creamy, loaded with raisins, and spiced with cinnamon and honey, it filled his too empty stomach.  The hot tea that accompanied the porridge warmed him even more.  Once he finished eating, he cleaned his armor as best he could, using the remaining water in the pitcher. 

He had brought his pack back from the bathhouse.  Emptying it onto the bed, he found it still held most of his belonging, minus any sharp items, writing materials, drawings and Lys’ letters.  They left him his flints, eating knife and the cloths he used to clean his armor, but not his dagger.  Too bad.  The dagger, a particularly nice one, had been a gift from Loghain.    

Putting on his armor would only make him more uncomfortable, but he decided he should be ready for whatever awaited him.  He completed dressing with some difficulty.  He was used to help securing his cuirass and pauldron buckles.

The templar who came for him, looked him over then nodded.  “Good, you’re ready.  Armor’s even cleaned.  We can take our time.  I expected to have to clean you up.”

Alistair frowned and started to speak, then thought better of it.  No sense antagonizing anyone until he knew what he faced.  The templar led him through the templar quarters to a passage.  He guessed the passage led through the Denerim City Wall and into the Chantry.  _I wonder if the King or Loghain know this passage is here?  Can’t be good to breach the city wall like this._

Once in the Chantry cloister, three other templars joined his escort forming a square around him.  They walked partway around the arcade until they came to a spacious apartment.  A Revered Mother greeted them as they entered. 

“This is the boy?”

“Yes, Your Reverence.”

The Mother disappeared into an inner room.  Muffled conversation followed.  When the Mother re-appeared, another woman followed behind.  Older, grey haired and elegantly, if simply, dressed, Alistair noticed the color of her gown and the pendant she wore and realized he was looking at Grand Cleric Elemena.  _Maker, is_ she _going to speak with me?_

“Alistair is it?”

He saluted, then bowed.  “Yes, Your Grace.”

“Please come in.  Mother Beitris, please provide us with some tea and cakes.  I’m sure Alistair would enjoy them.”  The Grand Cleric smiled at him, then turned and entered her study.  She seated herself behind her worktable.

Alistair followed and stood behind a chair.

“Please, Alistair.  Be seated.  We will have a talk, you and I.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”  He sat in the chair facing the Grand Cleric.

“So, you have the Theirin look, but so serious.  Do you have the charm as well?”

“I do not think so, Your Grace, but I have no way of knowing.  I did not know my father.”

“You met him.”  It was a statement, not a question.

“Once, Your Grace, briefly, at the Chantry in Redcliffe after Funalis services.”

“And your half-brother?”

“Several times in Redcliffe, Your Grace.”

“So before you came to us in the Chantry?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Revered Mother Beitris knocked and entered.  She and a Sister delivered tea and a plate of cakes.  The sister poured the tea and then departed with Mother Beitris. 

Alistair waited for Grand Cleric Elemena to sip her tea before he lifted his cup.

“So, Revered Mother Hilda and Knight-Lieutenant Aaron did teach you some manners.”

“Yes, Your Grace.  We all learned proper deportment.”

“And sometimes you even practice it.  I’ll admit, I’m surprised.  You’re reputation brands you an impious, rebellious sort.  Did you learn any of the Chant at the Peak?” 

He looked puzzled.  “Yes, Your Grace, of course we did.”

“Recite.”

Alistair thought, then began.

 _Maker, my enemies are abundant._  
Many are those who rise up against me.  
But my faith sustains me; I shall not fear the legion,  
Should they set themselves against me.

 _Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,_  
I shall embrace the light.  I shall weather the storm.  
I shall endure.  
What you have created, no one can tear asunder.

 _Though all before me is shadow,_  
Yet shall the Maker be my guide.  
I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond.  
For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light  
And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost.

 _Draw your last breath, my friends,_  
Cross the Veil and the Fade and all the stars in the sky.  
Rest at the Maker's right hand,  
And be Forgiven.

The Grand Cleric’s smile did not reach her eyes.  “Trials One.  Very clever, Initiate,”  she said quietly.  “I expected belligerence, sarcasm and flouting of belief.  Instead, you feign piety and obedience.  I am not fooled, Alistair Theirin, by your flippant recitation.” 

Alistair frowned, as he thought through his response.  “I indulge in humor, perhaps sarcasm, with my friends, Your Grace, not with my superiors or with strangers.  I follow Andraste and I obey my teachers and officers.”

“So you say.  Yet we hear different stories from others who traveled with you or knew you at the Tower of the Circle of Magi or at Dragon’s Peak.  Why is that I wonder?”

“Is that a rhetorical question, Your Grace?  Because I cannot answer it.  I do not know what you have been told.”

“And there we have more cleverness, more carefully disguised flippancy.”

Alistair hoped he had masked the sigh that almost escaped.  “It was not meant to be so, Your Grace.”

“The poor, misunderstood bastard.”  The Grand Cleric waited for his response.  When none was forthcoming, she continued.  “Alistair Theirin, you have displeased a great number of people with your behavior and attitude, including me.  Last year, on the road to Kinloch Hold, you, your companion, Cuthbert, and perhaps others provided additional food and water to the apostate captives you were tasked with guarding.  Do you deny this?”

“Would it matter if I did?”

“Again, the attitude.  No.  We have reliable reports from others on the journey.  Your companions Cuthbert and Ronald have already confessed and been disciplined.  They will have to work hard to become anything more than common templars to the great disappointment of their families.  Revered Mother Hilda and Knight-Lieutenant Aaron have been removed to serve at a minor Chantry deep in the Hinterlands.  Aaron has been demoted.  There they will remain.  These people have been punished and will suffer because of your actions.”

Alistair sat silently.

“Nothing to say?  No smart remarks?  Arl Eamon tells tales of your clever mouth and devious ways, apparent even when you lived in Redcliffe as a child.  These vile habits should have disappeared at Dragon’s Peak.  Instead, you were indulged.  Led to believe in your cleverness, your supposed talents, your belief you could lead.  They did this to curry favor with King Maric, Teyrn Loghain, Queen Anora and King Cailan.”

“No one knew he was my father.”  Alistair blurted.

“Did they not?  All they had to do was look at you and consider the visitors who favored you.”

The Grand Cleric held up a packet of letters.  “Who is your correspondent?”

Alistair paled in spite of himself.  “A childhood friend.”

“How did these get to you?  Who smuggled them in?”

“No one.  Teyrn Loghain brought them to me when he visited.”

“The youngest Cousland wrote these.  She professes to love you?  She wants to help you leave?  But her powerful family did nothing did they?  Your friends in high places have not helped you, have they?  Do you think they care?  If they did, would you  be here?  You’re a pawn, boy.  You patrimony is clear in your face, your build, your every move.  Your so-called friends only seek to control you or use you.  Do you think you accomplished anything?  Pah.  Every compliment was a means to gain favor with the Crown.  You have no talents, no skills, no intelligence.”

Alistair’s brow furrowed.  _It’s not true.  I did do well at the Peak.  But she is right.  I’m here.  No one’s come to take me away.  Teyrn Loghain offered false hope.  Lys…what could she do?_   There was nothing to say to disprove her claims. Objections from him would only provide satisfaction.  He resisted the urge to speak.

“Nothing to say, clever boy?”

“Nothing, Your Grace.   
I will do as ordered, as a templar initiate should.”

“How refreshing.  Yes, Initiate Alistair you will.  Arl Eamon tells me you once worked in the armory at Redcliffe.  You will report to the Arms Master here.”  She rose and went to the door.  “Knight-Captain Cynan, please join us.  I think Initiate Alistair should learn his place here in Denerim.  Not such an exalted or favored place as he had at Dragon’s Peak.”

The Knight-Captain smirked as he walked in.  Alistair stood and saluted.

“Well, he has manners, at least.  Perhaps we can withhold the lash and see how he works out.  Maybe the shock of his change in status will be sufficient to reform him.”  The Knight-Captain looked to the Grand Cleric for guidance.

“Watch him, Knight-Captain.  He thinks he’s a clever boy.  He might feign obedience.  I don’t want pretended obedience and piety, Knight-Captain.  I want real, unthinking obedience and true piety.  I suspect achieving that will take time.”  She smiled at Alistair.  “Take all the time you need.  We are in no rush to have him take his vows.”

 _No rush?  Why no rush?  Knight-Captain Aaron pushed me to reform so I_ could _take vows.  What is it she plans for me?  Why hasn’t she mentioned King Cailan or Teyrn Loghain?  She only mentions Arl Eamon.  Maker-_

Initiate Alistair!

“Yes, Knight-Captain.”

“It would behoove you to pay attention.”

“Yes Ser.”  He straightened up to attention.

“As I was saying, your punishment regimen will commence in the morning.  You will report to the Armory.  The Trainer and Arms Master Quenton will test you to determine your skills.  You will perform any duty the Arms Master assigns.  You will learn to care for weapons and armor.  You will assist the Trainer with the pages and first year initiates.  You will limit yourself to practice weapons when teaching.  You will not attempt templar skills.  You will not spar unless ordered to.”

“You will turn in your armor.  You will wear unmarked leathers for the time being.  You will live in the cell you now occupy.  It is adjacent to the armory.” 

“Thank you, Knight-Captain Cynan.  You may wait outside,” the Grand Cleric ordered.

Grand Cleric Elemena waited until Cynan left.  “Alistair.  You will obey every order and every request made by the Trainer, Arms Master or your escorts.  You will spend your time in the armory working under the Arms Master’s direction or you will be in your room.  You will be escorted from your room to the armory in the morning after Prime and from the armory to your room at night before Vespers. 

“You will attend services.  Again, an escort will guide you to the templar chapel for Prime, Vespers and Compline.  Meals will be brought to you.  You will be escorted to the baths weekly.  You will not fraternize with the other initiates and templars.  You will have no visitors except Arl Eamon.”

“At some point, should you show you have earned it, the escorts will be eliminated.  That is the first boon you can try to achieve through good behavior.”

“I will obey, Your Grace.”

“Yes, Alistair, I imagine you will.  If you don’t, this rather benign treatment will be abandoned for more severe inducements.  Please remember, those responsible for you will also suffer.  By not improving, you show the deficiencies of those around you.  So many have already suffered because of your mis-behavior.  I hope we won’t have to punish anyone else.”

“I do as well, Your Grace.  I will obey.”

“Good.  It seems we understand each other, Alistair.  You may go with the Knight-Captain.”

**9:28 Dragon  16 Solace  ===  Denerim, Royal Palace**

Loghain barged into Anora’s study.  He had returned in a rage from Dragon’s Peak the night before, but it had been too late to wake Anora and he was too angry to see Cailan.  “Did you know?  What game is Cailan playing?”

Anora leaned back in her chair with a sigh of relief.  She could not pull the chair quite close enough to write without bending over awkwardly.  After writing for an hour, her back hurt.  _And I’m not that large yet.  This will only get worse._ She smiled.  _And then better._   She rubbed her stomach and then brushed an errant lock of hair from her eyes.  She stood up to stretch.  The cushioned window seat beckoned.  _I may as well be comfortable if I have to listen to his rant._ She pointed to the chair by the window and sat in the window embrasure, leaning back against the cushions and stretching he legs out before her. 

 _Maker, she looks tired.  Those dark smudges won’t go away._   Loghain sank into a chair and faced his daughter.

“Alistair.  Dragon’s Peak.  I arrived too late.  The Chantry replaced Revered Mother Hilda and Knight-Captain Aaron over a week ago.  Hilda, Aaron and two boys  were taken away.  I heard about it from the innkeeper at the Dragon’s Rest when I arrived.”

“I don’t understand, Father.  You went to Dragon’s Peak to visit Alistair and found Mother Hilda, the Knight-Captain and two boys gone?  Gone where?”

“West.  I only learned that the Revered Mother, Knight-Captain and two boys went west.  Once he deigned to receive me, the new Knight-Captain would only say they had been replaced.  And that Alistair had been transferred to Denerim.

I spoke with Bryland this morning.  He confirmed a group of templars and a Mother traveled through South Reach a week ago.  His guardsmen learned from the carter that they traveled to Llanberys.  That’s a town in the Hinterlands southeast of Redcliffe.”

“I assume you’ve found it on one of your maps?”  Anora asked, eyebrows raised and lip quirked up at one corner.

“Yes.”  Loghain snapped.

“But Alistair was brought here?”

“Alistair was removed from the Peak and brought here this week.  I’m told he was under guard and bound.  I arrived a day too late it seems, although the new Knight-Captain and Revered Mother might have prevented him from leaving the monastery with me.  I had counted on the old rules.”

“He’s in the Denerim Monastery?”

“Yes.  No.  I’m not sure.  The Guards at the West Gate saw a bound templar prisoner come through after Vespers the day before yesterday.  I tracked that prisoner as far as the monastery, but who knows what they did then?”  Loghain rubbed his neck. 

“Father, let me speak with Grand Cleric Elemena before we decide he’s in Orlais.”

“I should have acted sooner.”

“Acted?”

“We planned that I would bring him to Denerim when I visited.”

“We?”

“Cailan, Fergus and I.  I just left it too late.”

Anora pursed her lips.  “We all did.  Maker, what must he thing of us?”  Anora leaned her head back against the window embrasure.  “Orlais might look like a reprieve.”  She barely whispered it, but Loghain heard.

“What!”

“Did I say that out loud?”

Loghain’s look told her she had, but he only said, “Let’s speak to Cailan first.  Would he keep it secret from you if he knew?”

Anora pursed her lips.  “I don’t know, Father.  Cailan does not confide in me as he used to.  I’m not sure he intends to keep secrets.  We simply don’t speak as often as we once did.”

“All the more reason to speak with him now.”

Anora sighed, swung her legs to the floor, and let her father help her stand.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Cailan turned from where he stood staring at the empty hearth.  One look at Loghain’s expression and he knew immediately why they had come.  Eamon had just informed him of the Grand Cleric’s action.  He had wanted to collect his thoughts before he spoke to Anora.  Now here she was and with her father.  Fortunately, Eamon had already returned to his own study.

“I just found out myself, Loghain,” Cailan said, hoping to forestall Loghain’s angry outburst. 

“You know why we’re here?”

“Given the look on your face, yes.  I…he was gone when you arrived?”

 ”I was too late.”  Loghain watched Cailan’s face. 

“I’d hoped you arrived with Alistair too late last night to wake me.  That is until Eamon came in this morning.”

“I suppose this is meant to emphasize that the Chantry controls Alistair.”  Anora said as she sat in a chair opposite Cailan and put her feet up on a footstool. 

“I doubt it’s that simple.  Not when they replaced Hilda and Aaron and took away too other boys.”  Loghain said, rubbing his knuckles across his forehead.

Cailan took a pillow to slip behind her back.  “Here, you look tired.  You back must be bothering you.”

Anora smiled her thanks.  He was considerate of her when they were together.

“We’ll just remove him.”  Loghain said going to stand behind Anora’s chair.

“You plan to invade the Monastery, Father?  Or do you think you can visit and just walk out with him?”

Loghain sighed.  “I don’t know Anora.”  He looked at Cailan who shrugged. 

“The hunting trip with Fergus, it was a way to cover the fact that Loghain would go to the Peak on our return.”  Cailan offered by way of explanation.  He glanced at Loghain.  “If you had gone on our way to the camp….”

Cailan and Loghain looked at each other.  “Could the ambush have been a way to divert us?  I sent a note to Dragon’s Peak, as I always do, to let them know I was coming.  The new Knight-Captain received it.  He confirmed that he had when he spoke with me.” 

“They were after you Loghain.  You and Fergus.”  He noticed Anora’s quizzical look.  “They kept yelling don’t harm the king.”

“I don’t know, Cailan.  It might have been just another attempt on me.  As I said, it’s not the first nor will it be the last.  Maybe we’ll find out more from the prisoners.  I’ll go to Fort Drakon later today.”  Loghain sat in the chair opposite Anora.  “I’ll try to find out if a templar hired them.  Or if they were templars.”

“Templars?  In regular armor?  It’s true they were Fereldan.  Fergus said to find out if the leader was Rivaini.”

“Like the attack in Antiva City?  I will try.”  He turned to Anora.  “We had a plan.  We planned to bring Alistair here.  That’s why I visited.  His birthday is soon.  It provided a reason for the visit.  I should have brought him out long ago.  Taken him to Gwaren until you all decided to acknowledge him.”  Loghain glared at Cailan who had the grace to flush and look sheepish.

“Perhaps, but it’s too late now.  Let’s deal with the current situation, not what we should have done.”  Anora’s narrowed eyes and pursed lips emphasized her frustration.  “I think Cailan and I should visit Elemena again.  Without you, Father.  You go to Fort Drakon as you planned.  After we see Elemena, we will visit Alistair.  We won’t attract the attention here that we would at Dragon’s Peak.”

Loghain nodded.  “There is that.”

Anora pinched the bridge of her nose.  “Who told you Cailan?”

“Eamon.”

“And how did he find out?”

“Grand Cleric Elemena met with him this morning.”

“She notified Eamon that _your_ half-brother was in Denerim?  Eamon?  Not you?”  Anora spoke through clenched jaws.  “I begin to think Father may be right in his suspicions.”

Cailan flushed further.  “Anora, Alistair is here.  He’s not in Orlais.”

“They could send him at any time.” 

“They won’t.”

“You sound very sure, Cailan.” 

Loghain raised an eyebrow.

“I am.  I spoke with Empress Celene about Alistair.  Our petition to the Divine was not a secret.”  He raised a hand to forestall comments.  “Let me finish.  She raised it when I mentioned I had an audience with Divine Beatrix.  Of course, she already knew it and the reason.  They’ve known about him for years, apparently.  And, no, I do not know how.”

Loghain snorted.  “Of course you do.  As do I.  Eamon.”

Cailan waved his hand for silence.  “We agreed that he should remain in Ferelden.  She will not try to remove him.  She agreed the matter lies between the Chantry and the Ferelden Crown, Anora.”

“And Orlais always keeps their word.  Particularly a casual agreement with no official status.”  Loghain snorted and shook his head.  “Not to mention  that the Chantry has denied the agreement Maric made and they seem to be in control here.  And we’ll overlook the fact that the Divine will accede to any request Empress Celene makes.”

Almost shouting, Cailan said, “I am not a fool, Loghain.  This agreement was not casual.  Nor was the Chantry excluded.  That is all I will say about it.”  He stalked over to the window and stared out into the garden, arms crossed.

Anora frowned.  _What agreement?_   _Was there an agreement beyond trade?  What was Cailan up to.  What was Eamon up to?_   _Were her fears foolish?_ She studied her beautiful, obstinate, foolish husband.  _He’s becoming a mystery to me.  I know more about his…conquests, than I do his plans  He doesn’t hide his women._

Shall we surprise the Grand Cleric with a visit, Cailan?

Cailan calmed.  “Yes, let’s surprise her.  I’m tired of her prepared sermons.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“What agreement?”  Anora hissed as the left the study.

Cailan waved his hand at his waist.  “There is no agreement, Anora.  Just the Divine denying our petition and Empress Celene promising to stay out of it.  Saying there was an agreement was the only way I could think of to shut your father up.  Maker, he can be annoying.’

“Cailan!”

“Don’t you start too.  This is a mess.  I know it, but I assure you there is no formal agreement beyond trade.  Empress Celene and I spoke of Alistair.  She promised she would not bring him to Orlais.”  He held up his hands.  “I know.  It could be an empty promise.  She could simply hide behind the Chantry and tell them what to do.  Let them bring him.  I just didn’t want more discussion with Loghain.  What is your plan, since you seem to think resolving this is so simple?”

She stopped, pinching the bridge of her nose.  “It’s not simple.  Not if we’re to avoid a confrontation with the Chantry.  I was hoping you had some agreement with Celene and the Divine that would override Elemena’s actions.”  She smiled wanly.  “But you don’t.  And I have no ideas either.”  She sighed, “ Let’s go and see what we can accomplish.  I’m not sure visiting him with no hope will help either.  It’s what he expects of us…nothing.”

Cailan frowned.  “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but you might be right.  Alistair yelled at Loghain when _he_ visited in Drakonis didn’t he?”

Anora nodded.  “He told Father he’d given up hoping for release from the Chantry.  He must think none of us care.”

“With good reason.”  Cailan agreed.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The Revered Mother looked up as a couple entered the anteroom.  “The Grand Cleric is occupied.  Who allowed…Your Majesties.  She stood and bowed.  I did not realize you and Her Grace had a meeting today.”

“I’m sure Her Grace can find time for us.”  Cailan smiled.

“Yes, I will ask her immediately.”  Revered Mother Beitris knocked on the study door.

“I am sorry to disturb you, Your Grace, but the King and Queen have arrived.”

Elemena smiled.  “Have they?  Well, that happened more quickly than I expected.”

“You…expected them?”

“Do not worry Beitris, you did not overlook a meeting.  Send them in.”

Mother Beitris escorted Queen Anora and King Cailan into the Grand Clerics study.  “I will get some refreshments, Your Grace.”

Elemena motioned for the king and queen to sit in the chairs across the worktable from her own.

“If you don’t mind, Your Grace, I’m chilled from our ride, as is Her Majesty.  It seems autumn will come early this year.  I’d prefer to sit by your fire.”  Cailan walked over to the large hearth and seated Anora in one of the high backed chairs, which faced it.  He searched for a cushion, found one and placed it behind Anora.  “Please, join us here, won’t you?”

Elemena frowned.  Cailan was usually more biddable.  Anora was the difficult one, but she simply sat and smiled at the cleric.  Her pregnancy showed, in spite of the high-waisted, artfully pleated gown.  The full trailing sleeves provided more screening when Anora crossed one arm in front of her, but even that did not hide her growing belly.  She must be five or six months along now. 

The Guerrins had let this pregnancy happen through the incompetence of their operatives.  _How could the potion have failed?_   She had understood it was a simple process.  And the servant, Erlina, seemed reliable.  The mage who created the defective potion was Tranquil now.  Harrowed mages were supposed to be safe from being made Tranquil, but, sometimes, exceptions were made.  Particularly in Kirkwall, where the mage had been sent.  “Of course, King Cailan.  The fire has been welcome this morning, but I did not realize how cold it had become.”

“Not cold, really.  Just damp, dark and windy.”  He smiled again, that charming Theirin smile. 

 _It’s a good thing I am immune to the Theirin charm.  He can be worse than his father._ She allowedCailan to seat her next to Anora.

Cailan stood, his arm resting on the carved mantle.  “Eamon tells me you’ve brought my half-brother to Denerim.”

“Yes.  He requires closer supervision than he received at Dragon’s Peak.  He cannot take vows until he learns obedience and piety.”

“So, what is your plan to reform him?  Eamon’s explanations were rather vague.  Perhaps he is not suited to the life of a templar.”

Elemena took time to smooth her features.  She noticed and did not appreciate the King’s implications.  The Grand Cleric glanced at the Queen, who sat primly looking at her husband.  Elemena frowned at Anora’s uncharacteristic silence.  _Maybe that’s a silver lining in this pregnancy.  She’s too tired to speak out.  Or had she put the King up to this?_

“We plan to put him to work in the armory, Your Majesty.  He will perform duties there, as the Arms Master and Trainer require.  He will help with the pages and newest initiates.  He will focus on his duties and his piety.  The good reports from Dragon’s Peak were exaggerated, Your Majesty.  Unfortunately, his paternity became known.  Some looked to gain favor by easing his path.  Now we must ensure he works at his skills and studies in anonymity.”

“That’s odd, Your Grace.”  The Queen spoke this time.  “My father visited Alistair at Dragon’s Peak.  He was most impressed with both Alistair’s martial skills and his knowledge.”

“Your father’s martial skills are, of course, well known.  However, they are not templar skills.  Nor do I believe he is qualified to judge Alistair’s performance in the classroom.”

“I think he can judge both Alistair’s martial skills and his knowledge, Your Grace.  My father is well read and experienced as a king’s advisor and friend.  More so than any templar I would think.”  A smile accompanied Anora’s firm retort.

“I cannot speak to the Teyrn’s knowledge, perhaps you are right.  He cannot judge templar skills.  I base my decisions on my templars’ evaluations.  The boy disobeyed direct orders and aided apostates in his custody.  He showed poor judgment and dangerous tendencies.  He could be held in punitive custody for his actions.  Because he is young and because he is a Theirin, I decided on more gentle punishments.”

“How did he aid mages?”  Cailan asked.

“Short rations are part of the punishment meted out to captured apostates.  Being hungry limits the risk of further rebellion while taking them to the Tower.  He and a companion provided additional rations.  Fortunately the apostates did not escape or rebel, but this kind of insubordination cannot be allowed.”

“So, you want the mages weakened while they march?  That seems counterproductive.  How can they march on empty stomachs?”

“Your Majesty, they may be hungry, but they are not weakened so much they cannot march.  If they lag, they know further punishments will follow.”

“So short rations prevents them from casting?”  Anora asked.

“No, the magebane does that.  Magebane we put into the food we give them.  They are not starved, but it’s helpful if they are hungry.  Giving them food without magebane, as Alistair did, might result in their not eating the magebane laced food.  He risked their regaining their magic.  The initiates may not have understood this, another reason for the lenient treatment.”  The Grand Cleric waved her hand impatiently.  “This discussion strays from your questions about the initiate, Alistair.  Regardless of what he knew, he disobeyed orders.  He was coddled at Dragon’s Peak.  He must learn obedience and piety.  He will learn it here.  Are there other questions you have about him?”

“Yes,” Cailan replied.  “I would like to visit my bother.”

Grand Cleric Elemena frowned.  “I won’t forbid you, of course, Your Majesty.  He is your brother and families have visitation rights.  I would prefer that you let him settle into his role here, however.  I believe he should get used to his daily regimen and earn rewards, such as a visit from you or Her Majesty.”  Looking at Anora, she added.  “Your father’s visits to him at Dragon’s Peak were within the terms of the old agreement, but he should not have been allowed to take him on jaunts around the countryside in Drakonis or at any other time.  Allowing him to wander the countryside is an example of the coddling I mentioned.”  Elemena smoothed her gown over her legs.  “Sire, may I suggest that you observe the boy, for now.  Meeting with him can follow at some later time.”

Cailan and Anora exchanged looks, before Cailan nodded his assent. 

Anora spoke, “We would like to clarify who may visit.  You mention only family.  That would exclude Eamon and Teagan Guerrin I believe?”

“Well…yes, I suppose it would.  Arl Guerrin was his guardian, but as you note, that ended many years ago.  Are you suggesting they not be permitted to see him?’

“I am.”

“We will agree.  However, your father will also lose any right to visit.’

“I think my father could be considered a relation by marriage, Your Grace.”

“That would be stretching the point, but perhaps we can agree to his visiting if he accompanies either of you.  The same, of course, would also apply to Arl Guerrin and Bann Teagan.“

“I believe that is acceptable to us.”  Anora looked up at Cailan.    

“We will control who sees him, then?  No one visits him on their own?  Just when they accompany us?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, you will control his visitors.”

“I’ll want to observe him, as you suggested, and speak with Arms Master, Your Grace.”

“Yes, of course, Your Majesty.”  She smiled.  “He’s not a prisoner, you see.  He’s just a boy who needs to grow up.  Dragon’s Peak failed him.  We want the chance to put that right.”

Cailan flushed, but said nothing more as he bent to help Anora stand.

They had made a little progress, but now they were again at an impasse.  The Grand Cleric held Alistair and, unless they wanted a confrontation with the Chantry, there was nothing further they could do.  Fearing Cailan would say something to provoke the Grand Cleric, Anora spoke up.

“We will take our leave then, Your Grace.  I assume you will not object to providing His Majesty with regular reports detailing our brother’s progress.  We prefer direct reports, Your Grace.  Arl Guerrin is, of course, our trusted Chancellor, but as you have pointed out so frequently this is a family matter.  One that should not concern the Chancellor, who is not related to him.  Alistair was removed, by King Maric, from the Arl’s purview many years ago.  He has no interest in or responsibility for Alistair.”

Elemena’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded in agreement.  “I’ll have the report delivered directly to King Cailan if that is your wish.”

“It is,” Cailan confirmed as helped Anora rise.  “I do not expect to hear of Alistair’s behavior or progress from Eamon again.”

“You shan’t.  I promise.”  The Grand Cleric rose as well.  “I apologize for speaking with Arl Eamon today.  You are correct of course.  It is a family matter, as I have stated all along.  Eamon will no longer be involved.  I…overlooked the fact that the boy is not Eamon’s nephew.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“You conceded the point.”  Loghain frowned as he tried to remain calm.

Anora rubbed her brow.  “The Chantry has custody of him.  The Divine denied our petition.  The Agreement _is_ null and void.”

“Cailan should have been more persistent in his audience with the Divine.”

“He was, Father.  The Divine is…distracted, apparently.  She thought Maric was still alive, it seemed.  She kept telling him to have Maric talk to the Grand Cleric.”

Loghain looked at Anora in disbelief.  “The Divine is dotty?”

Anora rolled her eyes.  “Not the way I would put it, Father.  She seemed fine, most of time, Cailan said.  She just kept acting as if Maric lived.”

“Confused?  Or maybe she knows Maric is alive.”

Anora pressed her palms to each side of her temple.  “Don’t start, Father.”

“I’m sorry, Anora.  I just hate to see Alistair locked away in that damn Monastery.”

“I know.  So do we.  We’ll figure something out.  Just…not today.”  She pinched the bridge of her nose.  “Now what did you find out at Fort Drakon.  Anything?”

“Nothing of use.  Well, it seems the attack was not led by or related to any Rivaini.  So probably a different source than the attacks at Highever and in Antiva City.

“The prisoners we hold are not templars.  Or at least we think not.  Some mages can sense templars.  The mage we took with us did not sense that the three prisoners were templars.  That doesn’t rule out the Chantry.  It probably means they hired mercenaries to do their work for them.  The leader did confirm it was a recent hire and rushed.  Blamed their failure on that.”

“What will you do with them?”

“Hang them.  They attacked the King.  The law’s clear.  There’s no need to bring common mercenaries before the Landsmeet for an assassination attempt.”

“Sad, but fair.”

“Anora, are you feeling alright?”

“Tired, Father.  I’ve been indulging myself in a nap lately, but haven’t had time for one today.  I’m late for that appointment.”  She smiled.

“Then go.  We’ll speak later.”

**9:28 Dragon  10 August  ===  Denerim Monastery**

Cailan stood on a deep balcony overlooking the practice yard, as he had each week since Alistair arrived.  He was in shadow.  It hardly mattered.  The young man and six pages were intent on their task and never looked up.  The pages paired off to practice basic forms with each other.  Three wore red scarves; three wore blue.  They carried wooden practice swords and small practice shields.  The young man in plain leathers patiently instructed them. 

“Now, red take the fifth offensive position.  Good.  Blue take the correct defensive position to oppose red.  Now hold.”

The young man walked down the row of pages correcting where their feet were placed, the angle at which the page held a sword or shield or the set of their shoulders.  The Arms Master came out to stand beside the king. 

“He’s good, Your Majesty.  Knows his forms perfectly, but more importantly has gotten to know the boys.  Probably the best instructor the pages here have ever had.  Not surprised.  He’s had the best trainers.  I’ve never seen him fight, but I’d guess he’s excellent.  Sad, he’s getting no practice.”

“He’s not to know I was here.”

“I understand, Your Majesty.”

“What do you mean, he gets no practice?”

“Forbidden to spar or use anything but practice weapons.  Part of his punishment.  Too bad to let his talents go to waste, but there it is.”

Cailan frowned.  “Thank you, Arms Master Quenton.  Any kindness you can show him without creating trouble for yourself…I’d appreciate it.”

The Arms Master nodded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome comments, encouragement, suggestions and critiques. 
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her efforts and her knowledge of the Fereldan map. Loghain would be proud of her. Her astute comments improve every post. None of the errors are hers – they are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. Special thanks to those who Reviewed, most recently my thanks go to:  
> Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, nh09jrb, KatDancer2, nymra and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. Knowing others enjoy the story inspires me.


	49. Couslands and Chevaliers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:28 Dragon August and Kingsway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

 “Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 49: COUSLANDS AND CHEVALIERS**

 

* * *

**9:28 Dragon  August  ===  Highever House, Denerim**

Eleanor Cousland stood in her garden overlooking the Amaranthine Ocean.  It had been well cared for in her absence.  The caretaker, Tilda tended the garden and, Eleanor was sure, convinced her husband Oswin to help her keep it weeded and pruned.  The couple took good care of Highever House in the Couslands’ absence; the same care they took with the Couslands when they were in residence.

Eleanor had arrived at Highever House late the previous day.  Fergus, Oriana and Oren had come to Denerim at the beginning of Solace.  They would all stay through Kingsway.  Fergus and Oriana celebrated Funalis with King Cailan and Queen Anora.  Fergus would attend the Landsmeet later in August.  While in residence, Fergus attended the Privy Council meetings to represent Highever.  He and Oriana would attend all the requisite galas, salons and dinners leading up to the Landsmeet, while Eleanor stayed at home with four-year-old Oren.  Nyla and Freya had accompanied Oren to Highever House, but Eleanor would provide welcome help for the healer and the nurse.

Shopping in Denerim held no interest for someone who could shop in Higheverport and Cumberland, but Eleanor would visit the Haris Compound.  Her visit _might_ occur on the same day the Queen arrived to look at fabrics for Satinalia gowns.  Eleanor smiled to herself.  She hoped Anora’s pregnancy presaged better times for Ferelden and for her own family. 

“Granma!”

Eleanor felt a thump as Oren barreled into her and hugged her legs. 

“Granma, can we practice now?  I have my bow.”

“Yes, Oren.  We can.”  Eleanor leaned down to tousle the boy’s brown hair.  She nodded to Freya that she would watch the boy.  _How did time pass so quickly._ She noticed Freya’s greying hair _.  She came to us as a young woman.  It seems like just yesterday that Lys stood in the garden pleading to use her bow.  Now she’s grown and far away. I wish there was a life for her here._ She shook her head willing sad thoughts away.  _If wishes were horses…._

 _“_ Let’s go Oren.”  Her hand on his shoulder, grandmother and grandson walked away from the garden toward the single target in the small practice yard.

****9:28 Dragon  August  ===  House Haris, Denerim** **

Teyrna Eleanor sat in the small salon of Haris House looking through some new fabrics.  Sun flooded the room with soft autumn light.  The tall mullioned windows, fitted with panes of glass, had been an innovation House Haris had introduced to Ferelden when they build their new compound.  The larger, clear panes provided more light than the windows made of small pieces of thick glass held together by lead.  Use of glass in windows was recent in Ferelden and was still not widespread.  Most homes had only shutters to keep out the weather, the cold and, sadly, the light.  The illumination provided through these large, clear glass windows still seemed magical.

Intent on analyzing the fabrics’ woven structure so she could describe it to the weavers in Highever, the Teyrna did not hear Anora enter, followed by Erlina.

“Teyrna Eleanor.”

“Anora!  Your Majesty,” Eleanor corrected herself hastily as she stood and curtsied.

The Queen laughed.  “Anora, please Eleanor.  I don’t have so many friends I can afford to stand on ceremony.”  She crossed the room and hugged the older woman.  “It’s been far too long.  I’ve missed our talks.”

Eleanor held the younger woman’s shoulders and stepped back to view the queen.  “You look well, Anora.  I see you and Lys chose your gowns well.  That soft mossy green is lovely on you.  And the high waist, pleating and full trailing sleeves work well.” 

“As do the drawstrings above my breast.”  Anora fingered the seemingly decorative ribbons tied into bows along a band above her breasts.  My breasts seem to keep growing along with my middle.”  Anora put a hand on her abdomen.  “I think I’m a little larger every day.”

Eleanor laughed.  “You probably are.  And it will only get worse, but the reward at the end is worth every inch, kick and sleepless night.”

“Oh Maker, my healers assure me that everything is normal, but the baby kicks so hard.  I’m told that means it’s a boy.”

The two women sat down in the high backed chairs by the windows.  The sun took away the slight autumn chill.  Erlina made sure her lady had a footstool before she left the room. 

“Don’t be too sure.”  Eleanor continued.  “Lys kicked much harder than Fergus.”

“Truly?”

“Harder and more frequently.  That child kicked so hard she spilled a cup of tea I had rested on my stomach.  I got no sleep when I was pregnant with her.”  Eleanor stayed silent for a time, her eyes unfocused.  “After losing two, she was such a gift.  But enough about Lys tell me how you are.”

The Queen and the Teyrna talked all morning, hardly noticing the passing of time.  Erlina brought tea, cakes and fruit before retiring to the anteroom.  Eleanor provided companionship that Anora got from no one else.  On the one hand, she offered motherly advice, which Anora had sorely missed since her own mother died.  On the other, she offered shrewd, political assessments, which Anora could not have received from either of her parents. 

For Anora, talking with someone she trusted was a joy.  She felt so isolated in the palace.  She and Cailan no longer shared easy evening confidences as they had when first married.  Her relationship with Loghain had become tense as his anger over Alistair continued to simmer.  Loghain spent most of his time with Maric’s Shield.  When he visited her, she found them skirting any sensitive topics such as Alistair or Elemena or Orlesian plots or Eamon.  It was a relief to discuss them with a knowledgeable, even-tempered friend.  

Eamon, as Chancellor, used his post to further his own goals.  He could not be king, but he could be the power behind the throne.  He believed Ferelden’s best future lay with an Orlesian alliance and a Theirin king.  He encouraged Cailan to focus on expanding Orlesian influence through trade and marriage alliances.  Amaranthine had been the first city opened to an Orlesian trade compound.  Highever and Denerim followed in 9:27 and 9:28 Dragon.  Loghain, of course, saw them as cesspits of Orlesian conspiracy and sponsors of the Society for Trade and Culture.  He and Anora avoided discussing them.

“We haven’t seen any suspicious activity in Highever,” Eleanor admitted, when the Society came up.  “Then again, they know we watch them.  All they really need to do is watch us and report on our activities.”

“Father, fears Arl Broughten will cooperate too much with them.”

“Philip?  Ridiculous.  He does what he needs to do to follow King Cailan’s decrees and the agreements with Orlais, which I should add have Landsmeet approval.  Most of the Bannorn benefits from this increased trade.  Perhaps your father and I should have a talk.”

Anora bit her lip, but failed to hide her smile.  Very few people wanted to engage in what must become an argument with her father.  Eleanor seemed to welcome it and feel sure she could convince him of her position.  “I can arrange that, Eleanor.”

“Perhaps you should.  Your father, who I care about, has a tendency to get mired in his own dark thoughts.  He, Maric and Bryce balanced each other.  Bryce still has me to keep him in line, of course.”  She grinned at Anora, who laughed.  “Your father often allows his Orlesian obsessions take over his every thought.  I know his experiences were terrible.  We need to stay vigilant, but we can’t keep fighting that war.  This trade can be turned to our advantage.”

Eleanor had spent her life immersed in Fereldan politics.  She served as a sounding board for Bryce, of course, but King Maric and Loghain had often consulted her.  Bryce and Loghain tended to traditional views; Eleanor and King Maric brought less obvious, more innovative ideas to discussions.  Eleanor had fond memories of the four of them sitting long into the night in the small salon at Highever.

 “You may be the only person he would listen to.  If he’s not railing about Elemena, he’s going on about Eamon.  If I don’t have a headache when he arrives, I do when he leaves.  Cailan won’t stay in the same room with him since he returned from Dragon’s Peak.  They hardly speak.  It just seems the issues with Alistair pushed him over the edge about all his concerns.” 

“Fergus is careful about what he repeats, but I sense his frustration with Cailan.  Alistair affected him badly too, I think.”

“It affected us all, but yes, Cailan is more…distracted, I suppose.  It seems we’re always one step behind.  Does Lys know?”

“I wrote to her.  I haven’t had a response yet.”  Eleanor bit her lower lip.  “I do worry about Eamon.  His enthusiasm for all things Orlesian is disturbing.  As are his efforts to distract Cailan from actually ruling.”

“He tells me I do a fine job administering the kingdom.”  Anora rolled her eyes.  “He doesn’t mean it as a compliment.  He considers such mundane matters as maintaining a quiet Bannorn beneath him.”

Eleanor sniffed.  “As if he would know.  He can barely run that damned castle.”

“Eamon’s convinced Cailan the work I do is not worth Cailan’s attention.”  Anora frowned and imitated the Arl waving his had dismissively, “That’s administrative work.  It's beneath your concern, Cailan.  You have staff to handle those things.  Leave it to your Seneschal or to Anora, she seems to enjoy attending to details.”  She smiled, “Cailan does bristle at that, although his comments aren’t that reassuring.  He claims I’m better at it than he is, so my involvement is fitting.”

Eleanor sniffed.  “That’s every man’s excuse when his wife in particular does anything better than he does.  And Eamon…what does a man who has no vassals to keep happy know about governing.  The Redcliffe townsfolk do as he says.  He leaves most things to his Seneschal.  Or he uses Teagan to conciliate unhappy allies.”  Eleanor laughed.  “I’ve seen Teagan following after Isolde, smoothing ruffled feathers, when she’s on a rampage at some imagined slight.”

Unlike Teyrn Bryce or Arl Howe, Eamon did not have argumentative vassals pledged to him or a large city to govern.  Redcliffe, as the western stronghold, included only the castle fortress and the village with its surrounding farmholds.  As the main stronghold in the west, Redcliffe had historically stood alone, facing Orlais.  In good times, the Arl maintained relations with Ferelden’s neighbor; in bad times, it stood against them.  Eamon’s father, Arl Rendorn, had cultivated alliances with surrounding banns during the Occupation, but Eamon had not been in Ferelden to learn from his father.

Eamon, encouraged by Isolde and her family, preferred foreign intrigue and gaining influence at Court.  He fostered alliances when necessary, as when he persuaded a group of banns to put Teyrn Bryce Cousland forward for king after Maric’s disappearance.  He persuaded his brother Teagan, a friend of the Couslands, to assist him, arguing to Teagan that Cailan was not ready to be King.  In reality, his goal was to discredit Bryce Cousland and remove him from Court.  He succeeded.  Eamon quickly filled the role of advisor to King Cailan that Teyrn Cousland had held.  Teagan, loyal to his brother, continued to ignore the little voice that told him Eamon’s ambitions threatened Ferelden. 

Both King Cailan and Chancellor Eamon attended the Landsmeets and secured approval for their Orlesian trade agreements.  Queen Anora, however, presided over the monthly Court, which resolved lesser issues among the banns and nobles.  Her wise, dispassionate adjudication of differences endeared her to most of the Bannorn.  The Arls appreciated her efforts to maintain internal trade.  Her push for better education troubled some, but she continued to advocate for a school, similar to Dragon’s Peak, and a university both separate from Chantry governance.  _At least Father and Cauthrien see to Maric’s Shield and the militias_ , Anora would often think, relieved that she did not have that duty as well. 

Not that Ferelden had a large government.  The King held two Landsmeet each year.  Court occurred each month unless there were no disputes to adjudicate – King Maric used to joke that he was more likely to see a Griffon, than a month with no Court.  The Privy Council met weekly in between Landsmeets.  King Cailan presided over the Privy Council, with Eamon at his side, but Anora often ran the meetings.  When they were in residence in Denerim, Fergus attended for Highever, as did Arl Broughten for Higheverport.  Without Teyrn Bryce, however, Highever wielded less influence than it had in the past. 

Loghain’s influence, outside military matters, was also limited.  The Bannorn believed they lived in a time of peace and increasing prosperity; Loghain’s insistence on military readiness and Orlesian threats had begun to bore them.  The Bannorn found Eamon’s pursuit of new trade opportunities far more interesting.  To Loghain’s irritation, Lord Fergus and Arl Broughten supported him.  Even Arl Howe, with Amaranthine’s prosperity increasing due to Orlesian trade, agreed with Eamon’s trade goals.  Fergus and Arl Broughton understood the competition Orlais presented to House Haris and Highever’s traditional alliance with Nevarra, but none of them saw the wider threat Eamon’s Orlesian trade policies posed.

Trade with Orlais had been legal since King Maric’s peace treaty with Empress Celene in 9:20 Dragon.  That trade agreement, however, had not allowed Orlais to set up trading compounds in Fereldan cities.  Permission for a compound in Amaranthine came with King Cailan’s trade agreement in 9:26 Dragon.  Having proved successful, Chancellor Eamon pursued expansion of the agreement in subsequent years.  King Cailan allowed Orlais to open a trading compound in Highever in 9:27 and Denerim in 9:28.  Eamon had pushed for Eremon in Waking Sea, but Orlais declined pointing out Eremon’s proximity to Jader.  Orlais did not want to diminish the importance of their own port.  Highever provided a way to compete with the Nevarrans, particularly House Haris; Denerim gave access to the capitol.  Amaranthine continued to benefit from its historic links with Orlais and its status as the first trading port afforded an Orlesian compound.

Arl Howe often supported Anora at the Courts and in Council.  Unlike the other Arls, he had many banns pledged to him.  He understood that the Bannorn must be kept in check.  Just as in his Arling, taxes must be collected; roads and bridges must be maintained; and disputes must be settled.  Persuading the banns and nobles to do their part fell to Anora.  She found Arl Howe abrasive, but appreciated his understanding and support.  Without the active participation of the two Teyrns, Howe’s support as a senior noble was often critical. 

Anora’s efforts made Cailan’s rule a success.  Eleanor recognized Anora’s achievements.  She offered sympathy and suggestions as they talked.  Like Anora, she had no thoughts on how to convince Grand Cleric Elemena to let Alistair go.  Eleanor, like Loghain and Anora, felt she had failed him.  She had not convinced Maric to acknowledge him.  Now, as Anora described his plight to Eleanor, she had no clever solution to offer. 

“I’m afraid the Grand Cleric has the upper hand.  The Landsmeet won’t support a confrontation with the Chantry over an unknown boy.  In fact, many of them might think the Chantry an appropriate place for Maric’s unacknowledged baseborn byblow.”  Eleanor’s tone reflected her bitterness over Alistair’s plight.  “Your father’s concerns about Alistair are not unfounded.  He would be a useful pawn in The Game, if held by Empress Celene.  Our sources in Orlais indicate the Empress gains more control over Chantry policy every day, particularly as regards to Ferelden.  She might influence them to send Alistair to Orlais.  Certainly, the Knight-Vigilant sympathizes with her goals to return Ferelden to Orlesian and Chantry control.  We’ve heard rumors that the Divine becomes more infirm and easily influenced each month.  I’m afraid we in Highever deserve a great part of the blame for the Chantry’s animosity.”

“Your open policy towards mages?”

“Yes, that and our ties to Nevarra, which in truth. are related.  Nevarran mages have almost as much freedom as those in Tevinter and even some political influence.  We do not push that far in Highever, but the Chantry and Orlais might fear that we will.”  Eleanor did not mention that the enlightened practices of Nevarra aligned well with the Couslands’ Arethian views. 

“We hear rumors that the Grand Cleric might disavow the agreement we had with the Chantry since the end of the Rebellion.  The agreement formalizes practices allowing mages more freedom, which have been in place for centuries, in Highever.  Grand Cleric Bronach made the formal agreement with Bryce to curry favor with King Maric right after the Rebellion ended.  She came rather late to Maric’s support.  Now the Chantry feels more powerful and less inclined to please the Crown, as you have discovered.”

“Are templars capturing the free mages?”

“Not yet.  The templars in Highever Chantries support our polices.  No templars or mothers have been replaced.  We continue to have good relations with Knight-Commander Greagoir, but he must follow orders.  If the Knight Vigilant, acting with Grand Cleric Elemena, orders him to change the policy, he will have to do so.  At present, It’s a concern.  We hope that it will go away.”  Eleanor smiled ruefully.  “There’s not much else we can do, other than remind our mages to follow the rules.  One infraction could give the Chantry the excuse to change everything.”

“You should mention this when you speak with Father.  He still mumbles about taking Alistair away by force.  Even if he succeeds, it would constitute an attack on the Chantry.”  Anora sat silent, then spoke again, “I’ve never seen him as angry as was when he returned from Dragon’s Peak.  I’m not sure if he was angrier with himself or the Chantry.”

“Oh, himself, no doubt.”

Anora almost smiled at Eleanor’s dry comment.  “For someone who tells others not to dwell on regretting past mistakes, he certainly does his share.  I’ve never seen him quite like this, though.  He spends all day in the Shield’s practice yards.  Cailan says replacing all the practice dummies he destroys will deplete the treasury more than his years of chasing Maric did.”

Eleanor smiled, remembering a younger Loghain.  “I’m afraid I can imagine that.  I’ve seen him angry.  Usually at Orlesians, although occasionally at Maric.”

“Well, at least he could kill the Orlesians or spar with Maric.  I actually fear he’ll do something rash or stupid.  He seems so distracted at times since the attack on the Cailan’s hunting party last month and then Alistair.  He’s begun to suffer from headaches and has trouble sleeping.  He wouldn’t admit that, but he looks terrible some days.  Pale, with dark shadows under his eyes.”

“Do you think he’ll even meet with me, much less listen?”

“I think so.  You and Bryce are friends, after all.” 

“That attack was disturbing.  Fergus has become much more careful.  He has four guards trailing after me here in Denerim.”

“I think the attack was related to Alistair and father’s visit to Dragon’s Peak.  Maybe not ordered by Elemena directly, but perhaps the Knight-Captain at Dragon’s Peak thinking it served the Chantry’s purposes or Orlais’.  With Alistair here in Denerim, they have full control.  For all his talk, even Father won’t storm the Monastery, but I’m not sure Elemena realizes that.”

“If he persists in threatening that, at least suggest he do whatever he plans by stealth.  That might have a chance of working, if you hire the right person.”

Anora raised her eyebrows.  “You can still surprise me, Eleanor.  You know of stealthy operatives?”

“Not personally, well, perhaps I do, but he’s not in Highever right now.  I do know how to contact them, as does Lys.  House Haris has numerous resources, Anora.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.  I can come here and order a gown…and an attack?”

Eleanor chuckled.  “Not quite, but we might help with the later.  We do have a mercenary company and ties to Antiva.”  She looked down at the hands she had folded on the table.  “Do you plan to tell me what Nyla has been doing for you?”

Anora’s eyes widened.  “How-“

“-Pippa and Nyla are acquainted, but it’s unusual for her to visit so often.  Either she is ill or she’s been there on your behalf.  Are you truly alright?”

“Yes, but who else noticed?”

“No one.  Even Oriana did not notice, but she mentioned Pippa’s visits and Nyla looked uncomfortable for a moment.  And if you are concerned about who noticed, clearly you are not alright.”

Anora’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears.  “Someone, linked to Orlais, tried to cause me to miscarry and used my lady’s maid, Erlina, to deliver the potion.  Erlina told me.  We decided to make whoever it was think the potion itself was defective to protect Erlina.”

“So, Erlina is a bard?”

“She’s _my_ bard.”

Eleanor looked at Anora.  “You’re taking a risk, but you’re a good judge of character I think.  Has the plan worked?”

“Nyla fixed the potion.  I took a vial.  I felt ill, as she said I would, but I’m still pregnant.  Delilah, Habren and Pippa all saw me get sick, as did Cailan.  He knew I was pregnant, but did know what caused me to be ill.  He almost cancelled his trip to Orlais.  I convinced him to go, just to keep Erlina safe.  I assume Eamon or other Orlesians are behind it.  And _no,_ Father does not know. 

“Good.  That would definitely put him over the edge I’m afraid.”

“Cailan and Father would insist on Erlina’s arrest, in spite of her honesty and help.  And we have no proof of who’s behind it.  I am only surmising.  Telling them would accomplish nothing.”

“I think you’re right.  Erlina is still with you, so the plan succeeded?”

“Yes, Nyla gave Pippa a second potion that would just make me sick.  I didn’t have to take the real potion again.  Erlina’s contact finally asked her for the remaining vials after it failed twice.  They found them defective and didn’t blame Erlina.  By that time, Cailan had returned from Orlais and we had announced the pregnancy.”  She twisted her fingers together.  “We’ll see I suppose.”

“And Cailan?”

“Maker, Eleanor, you can’t think-“

“-no.  No, of course not, I just meant is he very upset?  Over you and Alistair.  I haven’t asked Fergus too many questions.  He takes his responsibilities and Cailan’s confidences seriously.”

Anora sighed, relieved.  “He’s furious about Alistair, too.  And very worried about me, but only because I was so sick.  Of course, being upset means he goes out every night to the Noble or some other tavern to drown his concerns and then to the Pearl, usually with Teagan.”  She smiled, “I understand Fergus goes drinking with him, but refuses to even go to the Pearl.  Unfortunately, his influence does not extend to Cailan’s personal habits.  And I don’t understand Teagan.  He never used to carouse as he does now.  I can’t help but wonder if Eamon puts him up to it.  He’s always been a little too dutiful where Eamon and family are concerned.”

“Cailan’s developing quite the reputation.”  Eleanor frowned.  “As is Teagan.  I agree, he was never profligate.  I don’t understand the change in him, but he seems to encourage Cailan, doesn’t he.  I, too, fear Eamon’s hand in that.  Although he still visits us in Highever.  That hasn’t changed.  He and Philip, Arl Broughten, have become closer with all this Orlesian trade business.”  Eleanor bit her lower lip.

 _Just like Lys._   Anora smiled, they looked so much alike at times.

“I think we should freeze the trade agreements for a few years.  Eamon does not agree.  Truly, I don’t know why Cailan has to go to Orlais every year, as he now does.  I agree with Father on that.  It’s not as if Cailan attends every meeting with Eamon.  That’s not as troubling as the fact that Arl Philipp doesn’t either.  When I asked Cailan about Eamon’s private meetings, he seemed unconcerned.  He says Eamon is Chancellor, so of course he has meetings that neither he nor Arl need attend.  He assures me that we all see the final agreements.  That nothing is hidden.  That Eamon has Ferelden’s best interests at heart.  I just wonder if Eamon’s idea of Ferelden’s best interests is the same as mine.”  Anora sighed and nibbled on a lemon cake.  “The increased trade is good.  Arl Howe seems pleased with the results in Amaranthine.  The compounds haven’t caused problems in Highever have they?  I know Father has them watched closely here.”

“No, although we watch them closely too.  They do seem to encourage the Societies for Trade and Culture, so we watch both.  I’m not sure if they do the same in Amaranthine.  Rendon does seem happy, if that’s not too strong a term.”  Eleanor’s mouth quirked at the corners.  “He seems quite flush of late.  A lot of rebuilding goes on in Amaranthine City, although Vigil’s Keep remains unimproved.  He expanded the docks and allowed the Orlesian merchants to enlarge their compound.  But I digress, what about Cailan.”

“Sometimes he seems so lost.  And I can’t reach him.”

“Neither of you has had an easy time.  You’ve never had a chance to be together and know each other as a married couple.  You’ve never been left alone.  You have too many people in that bed with you.”

Anora giggled.  “Eamon, Rendon, Maric’s ghost, Father…Maker that sounds totally scurrilous.”

Eleanor laughed.  “I’m a bad influence, I’m afraid.  Oh, Sweet Andraste, the image…I can’t let myself see it.”

The two women laughed until the tears flowed and still they could not stop.  Erlina poked her head in from the anteroom.

“My Lady…oh, you’re laughing.”

Finally, Anora, had calmed enough to answer.  “Yes, Erlina a much needed laugh.  It’s fine.”

“Yes, My Lady.”  Erlina left shaking her head.

“I’ve missed you.  I love Lys, but there are things-“

“-she’s young, Anora, she can be a sister and a friend.”

“But not a mother, an advisor and a friend.  Thank you for coming.”

“Anora, all you need do is ask.  Denerim is not that far.”

“I will ask Cailan, then, if you can come when it’s my time.  I can’t think of anyone else I would want.  I know Isolde will try to be there, but I won’t have her.”

“Just let me know.  Lys and I will both come if Cailan allows it.”

**9:28 Dragon  Kingsway  ===  Ostagar Grey Warden Camp, Ferelden**

Loghain, Cailan and their escort camped two day’s journey south of Lothering on their way to the joint camp of the Fereldan Wardens and Maric’s Shield at Ostagar.  Fergus had gone ahead the week before with Captain Maegwyn.  He accompanied the Shield troops assigned to work with the Fereldan Grey Wardens at Ostagar.  Rising at first light, both Loghain and Cailan wanted to reach Ostagar that day.

“Have you ever seen Ostagar, Loghain?  During the Rebellion, perhaps?”

“No, Cailan.”  Loghain took a deep breath.  He had promised Anora he would try to get along with Cailan during this trip.  His long talk with Eleanor Cousland had calmed his fears slightly; encourage trade and vigilance she had said to bring prosperity and peace.  Just being away from Denerim helped too.  He realized Cailan was still speaking.

“It’s said to be quite impressive.  Ancient Tevinter towers, bridges, arcades…all partially ruined.  Incredible how what they built has lasted for so long.  Think of the tales those stones could tell.”

“The Avvars built to last as well, Cailan.  Vigil’s Keep is built over an Avvar fortress.  Kinloch Hold and Fort Drakon were built by Avvars with Dwarven assistance.”

Cailan looked at Loghain.  “This from the man who hates tales.”

Loghain rolled his eyes, but kept his temper.  “I don’t hate tales, Cailan.  I think learning history, important.  One must attend to reality, however, not worry about what the bards will sing about us in a hundred years.”

“This from the Hero of River Dane who is sung about by bards throughout Thedas.”

“I can’t help that Cailan.  I did what I did to save Ferelden, not to create tales.  As did your father and mother.”

“Let’s not argue, Loghain.  I’m worried about them both too.”

At Loghain’s raised eyebrows Cailan added, “Anora and Alistair, of course.  And these darkspawn incursions.”

It’s good to get out of Denerim, to be honest, Cailan.  It clears my head to be on horseback or under canvas.  I seemed to have a permanent aching head in Denerim.  I sleep better in a tent on a camp cot.”

Cailan cocked his head as he looked at the older man.  “You look better, truth be told.  Anora’s been worried.”

“Well, you can report I’m fine when you send word back.”

“I will, Loghain.  I don’t want her worrying.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The King’s party arrived in Ostagar after a long day on the road.  Sent ahead with Fergus’ party, Cailan and Loghain’s pavillions had already been set up in an open area surrounded by Tevinter ruins.  Fergus’ smaller pavillion stood across from Cailan and Loghain’s.  To get to the pavillions, the party had to cross to the far side of a bridge arching across a deep ravine.  Captain Maegwyn, leading the troops from Maric’s Shield, greeted his King, his General and their escort.  In the remaining daylight, he showed them around the camp.  The troops from Maric’s Shield camped just beyond the King’s encampment, in the woods.  The Warden’s themselves were camped at the bottom of the Ravine, well separated from the Fereldans.

Loghain rose before either Cailan or Fergus.  He walked up a ramp to a paved area and gazed south over the green expanse that was the Korcari Wilds.  It had been years since he and Maric had escaped through the Wilds, but he remembered the forested terrain, pocked with lakes, swamps and streams. And Chasind.  And witches.  Maker, he hoped they would go far into the Wilds on their patrols.  He had no wish to relive any of those experiences. Well, maybe just the part where Maric was alive and traveling with him. 

The three nobles met over an early breakfast in Loghain’s tent. 

“They keep to the letter of the agreement,” Fergus said.  “Each day a warden accompanies the Shield patrol we send out.  Usually an older Nevarran warden called Petyr.  He’s been most helpful.  He patrolled with Hrothgar’s Wrath and Nevarran Guards when he was posted in Nevarra City, so he’s used to working with non-wardens.  The senior wardens held sessions instructing our troops about the types of darkspawn, how to avoid becoming tainted and the darkspawn’s battle tactics and habits.  Our sergeants can relay the lessons to the rest of the Shield when we return.”

“Battle tactics?”  Loghain had raised an eyebrow.  “I didn’t think the darkspawn could think or communicate.”

“They don’t think, exactly, but once they engage with us they do react as if they’ve been trained in some way.  They’re capable of changing their attacks and…signaling to each other.  They use magic and can direct it where it will do the most damage.  Their archers drop back to get away from the melee fighting.  They use their light troops, rogues, to attack the weaker among us.  That sort of thing.  They’re not setting up ambushes or anything complicated, but they’re not as mindless as we might think.”

“You’ve fought them?” Cailan spoke excitedly.

“Once.  Nothing I want to do again.  They’re fierce, filthy and utterly relentless.  Either you kill them all or you die.  They don’t retreat to fight another day.  Then there’s the fear.”  Fergus saw Loghain frown.  “Not of dying battle, Teyrn Loghain.  That’s normal.  I mean fear of the taint.  Any wound, however slight, open you to being tainted.  It’s horrible.”  Fergus almost glared at Cailan.  “You do not want to meet them, Your Majesty.  Fighting them proves nothing.”

Cailan looked soberly at his friend.  “I…will patrol, Fergus, but I’ll also heed your words.  Dying of the taint does not seem fitting for a king.  Has this Warden Petyr offered any more insights?”

“Petyr told me that during a Blight, the darkspawn become even more organized, or so the texts say.  No one alive has experienced a Blight.  He claims that the Archdemon…talks to them and tells them what to do.”  Fergus held up his hands at Loghain’s expression of disbelief.  “He didn’t elaborate.  Warden secrets, he said.  Cailan, perhaps you should ask Duncan.  Petyr seemed to think that the Wardens shared some of these secrets with ruling monarchs to encourage recruitment and cooperation.  Maybe he’ll tell you, if he hasn’t already.”

“He hasn’t told me anything.  I will have to ask him.  Duncan lets me use the Warden’s library at the Warden Compound.  I read about the types of Darkspawn there. There are several types, right?”  Cailan said.

“Yes.  Hurlocks and genlocks are the most common and the only ones we’ve seen.  Ogres are huge beasts, several times taller than a man.  Shrieks appear out of the ground or thin air somehow and are especially vicious.  We’ve seen hurlocks and genlocks appear out of nothing too, but shrieks always appear from nothing.  We’ve been told to retreat, if possible, should we encounter either ogres or shrieks.  The Wardens recommend we let our ranged troops cover our retreat.  Honestly, I wish I had some mages.  I can see how they would be enormously useful, both to heal and to fight.”

Cailan looked at Fergus thoughtfully.  “Would your father send a unit with mages?”

“Of course, Cailan.  He’s Fereldan.  He would do whatever you asked.”  Fergus kept his voice even with some effort.

“Then ask him, would you?  Let him know I requested it.  We should see how they fit in.  The Highever troops are the only ones in Ferelden trained to work with mages.”  Cailan had noticed Fergus’ control.  “We…I…well, we’ll discuss your father when we get back to Denerim.  I may want to make some changes.”

Fergus nodded and Loghain regarded Cailan thoughtfully, but decided not to follow up on his last remark.

“Good thought, Cailan.  I agree, we should learn all we can about fighting these monsters.”  Loghain took a sip of his hot tea.  “Fergus, do the wardens have mages?”

“Only one.  I was surprised that Duncan hasn’t recruited more.  I know the Nevarran wardens have them.  Lys said so and Petyr confirmed it when I asked.  Hrothgar’s Wrath uses mages, just as we do in Highever.  I don’t understand why Duncan doesn’t have more.  He says he’s been to the Tower, but found no volunteers from either the templars or mages.  Knight-Commander Greagoir and First Enchanter Irving don’t encourage volunteers.”

“Templars?”  Cailan’s head snapped up.

“Well yes.  The darkspawn have mages – emissaries they’re called.  Templars could be useful, particularly if they can focus their powers against the darkspawn, but leave our mages unaffected.”

Cailan sat back sipping his tea as Loghain and Fergus continued to discuss the wardens' methods.  _Maybe this is the answer to freeing Alistair.  He’s trained as a templar.  He could be useful to Duncan.  And Elemena can’t object to his becoming a warden, if he hasn’t taken his vows.  The Chantry must support it, if other templars have become wardens._ Cailan shrugged _.  I suppose Duncan could conscript him.  I’ll certainly allow it._

“Cailan.”

Cailan focused.  “Sorry, Loghain, dozing I guess.”

“With your eyes open?”

Cailan shrugged.  “Are we off to meet Captain Maegwyn.  I want to join his patrol today.”

Fergus and Loghain looked at each other.  “Cailan are you-“

“-don’t Fergus.  These creatures come out of the Wilds and menace _my_ people.  I’ll not sit back and wait for reports any more than my father would have.  I want to know what we’re up against.  Have you been out?”

“Yes.”

“Loghain do you plan to go?”

“Yes, Cailan.”

The King sat silent. 

“Fine, but you don’t engage with them. You agreed. We, all three of us, retreat to fight another day.  Getting Blight sickness won’t serve your people.”  Loghain growled.  “No heroics, like you tried with those mercenaries.  You’re not that experienced in battle.”

Cailan frowned, but nodded.  For once, he understood Loghain acted out of concern and affection.  “I agree, Loghain.”  He smiled.  “I do want to see my son.”

“Or daughter?”

“Or daughter, Loghain.”

The three men walked over to the Fereldan camp where they would join the patrol.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The patrol from Maric’s Shield advanced along the edge of Wilds.  They went on foot, spread out in skirmish formation with their lieutenants positioned half way down either side of the skirmish line.  The Shield’s captain walked in the center next to Warden Petyr.  Loghain, Cailan and Fergus followed the line of twenty troops.  Two troops from the Shield flanked the three nobles and three more followed, boxing them in protectively.  The nobles followed the Shield Captain, Maegwyn, and Warden Petyr closely enough to hear their conversation.

“I sense no darkspawn nearby,” Warden Petyr said.  “Let’s adhere to our planned route.  It’s not up to your Shield troops to chase after the darkspawn.  They can fight, should we meet any, but no need to risk the taint by chasing them.  We can note where I sense the darkspawn and provide that information to Warden-Commander Duncan.  Warden patrols can search those areas tomorrow and clean out any nests.”

Periodically, they stopped to allow Captain Maegwyn to consult his map and mark the spots where Petyr sensed the darkspawn.  On this day, much to Loghain’s relief, they met none of the monsters.  Cailan had mixed feelings.  He had wanted to see the monsters for himself, but Fergus’ warning had struck home.  He did not want to be tainted.  Loghain appreciated the Captain’s disciplined approach and complimented him when they stopped for a break.

“I thought you would be running off after the darkspawn, Your Grace,” Petyr said.

“I’m not a fool, Warden.  We didn’t defeat the Orlesians by attacking every chevalier in sight.  I know something of strategy and tactics.”

“I can see that, Your Grace.  What we heard in Nevarra came, I’m afraid, from Orlais.”

“Then you heard about the Butcher of River Dane.  What you didn’t hear about were the Butchers of Orlais.”

“Point taken, Your Grace.  Nevarra’s had its own quarrels with our covetous neighbor.  I apologize for not remembering that.  Fergus has been a good leader.  I should have realized you trained him.”

“Ah, Fergus.  I can’t take credit for Fergus.  He learned his skills from his father and the Highever officers.  Teyrn Bryce Cousland fought in the Rebellion too.”

“I see.  Either way, he’s a talented young leader.”

Loghain’s eyes narrowed.  “You’re not thinking of recruiting him?”

“Maker, no!  We should, in my personal opinion, be recruiting more Fereldans, but not the heirs to noble titles.  Now if he has a younger brother?”  Petyr smiled.

Loghain shivered.  “A sister.”

“Ah, well then no.  We don’t have many women wardens.”

“How many wardens are here?”

“Eighteen of the twenty two Fereldan wardens including the Warden-Commander.  Two remained in the compound.  Two Senior Wardens are out recruiting .  We also expect one of our brothers from Jader to join us here.”

“Oh yes?  And why is that?”

“Dispatches, perhaps.  Duncan does not confide in me.”

“Aren’t you a Senior Warden?”

“I am, but…well I’m Ne…newer.”

Loghain eyes narrowed.  “And Duncan and his close staff are from Orlais?”

“His close staff have been here longer than I have.  Wardens don’t pay attention to nationality or politics.”

“And the warden from Jader?  What country is he not from?”

Petyr chuckled.  “Ferelden, actually.  Just like Duncan.”

“Oh well, that’s reassuring.”

Petyr laughed.  “I take it you do not like our Warden-Commander?”

“I think he is a good man, a good warrior, but perhaps not the best leader.”

Cailan had been listening to the conversation for some time.

“Ignore him, Petyr, he bristles at even a faint whiff of Orlais.  Duncan, however, does need to recruit more Fereldans and we hope to help him do that.  That’s why we’re here.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The patrol returned to the camp just before sundown.  They identified several darkspawn nests for the wardens to clean out on the morrow.  The wardens would need to move quickly, the darkspawn did not stay long in one place.  Petyr took the map and started toward the warden camp with Fergus.

“Do you mind if I join you?  I’m sure Duncan will dismiss me if I become too bothersome.”

Petyr laughed.  “Come along, Your Grace.”

The men climbed down to the warden camp in the ravine bottom. 

“Who’s that?”  Loghain stopped suddenly hand clenched around his sword hilt.  Ahead of them two chevaliers and a smaller, dark haired man in warden armor stood talking with Duncan.

“That’s Warden Riordan from Jader.  And his escort, I presume.”

“His escort?  Those are Orlesian Chevaliers, not wardens.”  Loghain and Fergus exchanged glances. 

“I’ll get some troops,” said Fergus as he left.

“Yes, well the Orlesians use non-warden troops when necessary,” Petyr said.  “You know that Your Grace.  In Nevarra we use Royal Guards and Hrothgar’s Wrath.  Orlesian wardens use chevaliers.”

“It seems Ferelden is the only place local troops are not used.”

“That’s probably true, Your Grace.  And before you ask, I do not know why.”

Loghain had worn his Chevalier’s plate for the day’s patrol.  He walked up to Duncan with Petyr.  The two chevaliers smiled at him. 

“Bonjour.  Nous ne savons pas-“

“-I’m not Orlesian.”  Loghain growled, using the Common Tongue, as Duncan blanched. 

Riordan noticed his friend’s sudden pallor and realized who the dark haired knight in Chevalier’s armor must be. 

“And I’d like to know what in the Void two Orlesian Chevaliers are doing in Ferelden.  Give me a reason not to arrest them and hold them Warden-Commander.  And let me give you a hint – the best reason would be that they’re leaving Ferelden tonight by the quickest route possible with an escort I will provide to help them along.”

“Your Grace, the two knights accompanied Warden Riordan and another warden he brought to join our force here in Ferelden.”

“Two wardens can’t travel from Jader to Ostagar along the Imperial Highway without a chevalier escort?  I find that hard to believe.  Have the dwarves decided to attack the surfacers?”

The two chevaliers realized who stood before them as the conversation progressed.  They began to mutter to each other.  “…boucher-“

“-Silence,” Loghain thundered. 

Riordan answered Loghain’s question.  “We traveled the Imperial Highway to Rainesfere, Your Grace.  We stopped to see the Bann’s Seneschal regarding some trade we have with Rainesfere.  Apples and cider.”

“I suppose you stopped at Redcliffe too, although I can’t imagine what Eamon could provide.”

“Indeed, Your Grace, we did.  His Lordship’s Seneschal had a number of local farmers and fishers meet with us.  They’ll be delivering fresh meat and fish to the camp here in a few days.”

“Any other meetings with Fereldan nobles?”  Loghain’s voice had gotten very quiet. 

Fergus had arrived with King Cailan and a contingent of Maric’s Shield as the description of the meetings with Teagan and Eamon began.

“Hold, Loghain.  Let’s see what our _Orlesian friends_ want before we string them up.  Both my uncles trade with Orlais.  That is not news.”

Loghain turned his glare on Cailan.  Duncan whispered something to Riordan.

“Duncan explain.  Loghain has a point.  When has the Imperial Highway become unsafe?  My uncle Teagan tells me of no troubles at his Rainesfere manor.  I hear no rumblings from Waking Sea or Redcliffe.  Your explanation seems…weak.”

“Perhaps I can explain, Your Majesty,” Riordan said saluting with crossed arms and bowing.

“And you are?”

“I am Warden Riordan, Your Majesty, from the Warden post in Jader.  These knights are part of our post.  While they are not wardens, they work under our command not that of any Chevalier post.  So they report to me.  And they will accompany me back to Jader.”

Cailan held up a hand to forestall further comment from Loghain.

“And when will that be Warden?”

“I will leave the day after tomorrow at first light.  I brought dispatches for Duncan and we must confer.”

“I will allow it.  Our troops will then escort you back to the border.  We will not welcome dallying on your return journey.  No more meetings with my uncles or anyone else.  And your knights will come with us and stay, under watch, in our camp.”

“I see no reason-“

“-I do, Warden Riordan.  These men are not wardens.  I am King here and these chevaliers are not here by my leave.  They are in Ferelden unannounced and uninvited.  I have good relations with Her Radiance, Empress Celene, but those relations do not include free travel for her Chevaliers within my kingdom.  They will stay in our camp until you leave.  Have them get their gear and accompany my Shield.  They’ll be shown where to set up their tents.”

Riordan looked at Duncan, eyebrows raised. 

“King Cailan is right, Riordan.  The knights are not wardens.  It shall be as he orders.”

Riordan ordered the knights to follow the Shield. 

Fergus, standing next to Loghain, said quietly, “He just told them to watch what they discuss.”

“I heard.”

Fergus smiled.  “So, you do speak it.  I thought you might.  Most Fereldan’s knew some Orlesian during the Occupation didn’t they?”

“Had to.  They certainly never bothered to learn any Fereldan dialects.  Wouldn’t even use the Common Tongue most of the time.”

“That’s what father’s said.  Well, we can hope they forget Riordan’s order or think we’re too stupid to understand.”

Petyr had begun to show the map to Duncan and Riordan, but Loghain had no wish to speak to either man.  He and Fergus joined Cailan and the three Fereldan’s headed back to their own camp.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Riordan and his Chevaliers left, as he promised, after a day of meetings with Duncan.  Eight Shield troops accompanied them.  Fergus and Loghain watched them go, standing apart from King Cailan and Warden-Commander Duncan.

“I think Cailan handled all this quite well,” Fergus said.

“He did.”

“…but.”

Loghain sighed.  “No buts.  He did.  He surprises me sometimes, then again Maric was not the most consistent ruler either.  It took him a while to grow into his responsibilities.  Arl Rendorn and Rowan had to push him.”  Loghain gave Fergus a sidelong glance, seeing the slight smile on the young Cousland face.  “Yes, and me.  I suppose I expect too much of Cailan.  He’s still young, after all.  Now, let’s go.  That patrol shouldn’t have to wait for us.”

They headed out on another patrol with the Shield and Warden Petyr.

“Duncan,” Cailan called as the Warden-Commander started to return to his tent,  “please join me in my tent.  I have something to discuss with you.”

“Yes, of course, Your Majesty.”

“I’m not sure how to begin…,”  Cailan smiled.  “Just jump in I suppose.  To be clear, this is all in confidence, Duncan.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“I have a brother.  A half-brother.  He’s never been acknowledged.  He’s in the Chantry and I want to get him out.  I think perhaps you can help.”

“Me, Your Majesty?”

“I think he would make a fine Grey Warden.  If you recruit him, the Chantry should let him go.  He’s a trained templar, but hasn’t taken vows.  So you see, he can fight and has templar skills.”

“Hmm…templar skills could be beneficial against emissaries, it’s true.  We don’t usually recruit templars, but perhaps one that hasn’t taken vows….  The Chantry usually allows it.  Where is he?”

“At the Denerim Monastery.  He works in the armory at present.”  Cailan rubbed his neck, twisting his head side to side.  “He was at Dragon’s Peak.  Apparently he caused some trouble there…harmless pranks, but the templars moved him to Denerim.  He’s doing punishment duty at the Armory, but the Arms Master tells me he’s learned his lesson.  I believe, he would prefer the Wardens to the becoming a templar.  He’s not particularly pious, I’m afraid, but a good soldier.  You’ll learn all this if you speak with Arms Master Quenton.”

Duncan chuckled.  “I imagine we can handle pranks, Your Majesty.  I’ll speak with the Arms Master once we return from our patrols here.  Perhaps talk with the boy…he’s younger than you?”

“Eighteen, I believe.”

“I’ll make no promises, Your Majesty.  I will let you know what I think once I speak with them.”

“I understand Duncan.”  Cailan smiled as he and Duncan both rose.  “Oh, and Duncan, let’s leave this between us until a decision is made.  Fergus and Loghain have no need to know.”

Duncan nodded, then bowed and left.  _I’ll never understand why King Maric didn’t just send him to a farmholder to raise.  Fiona meant him to be raised away from the nobility when she said away from Court.  Even a stable boy at Redcliffe would have been more to her liking.  Fiona will be furious if he becomes a templar after Maric promised her he wouldn’t.  He told me that the school was safe and he’d be educated.  That’s what I told Fiona.  If the Chantry won’t let him go, perhaps making him a warden is the only option.  She’ll be angry either way._ Duncan shook his head wondering what he would write to his friend if the boy failed his Joining. 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Fergus and Loghain marched behind the skirmish line.

“Did the chevaliers discuss anything of interest?”  Loghain asked.

Fergus bit his cheek.  “They confirmed their association with the Wardens.  A company is assigned to each Warden post including the Warden post in Jader, as Riordan said.”

“So, no plan for a mass invasion?”

“Only if there’s a Blight.”

“What!”  Loghain looked around as the troops flanking them looked at him quizzically.  “That’s not funny Fergus,” he hissed.

Fergus waited for the soldiers to lose interest.  “I’m not joking.  Both men talked about the Chevaliers accompanying the Wardens into Ferelden should there be a Blight or the threat of one.  As far as the Wardens know, the chevaliers would come only to fight the Blight.  The chevaliers, however, confirmed that defeating a Blight is not the _only_ Orlesian goal.  They come to fight the Blight and reconquer Ferelden.  Once here, they won't leave.  Apparently, it’s not the Empress’ primary plan, she still hopes to conquer us through marriage, but it’s a backup.  It will only go into motion if this darkspawn activity does lead to a Blight.

“One chevalier argued that the plan would accomplish nothing.  He said Ferelden would be worthless to Orlais after a Blight’s devastation.  He thought the Empress should just attack Ferelden now and take it back.  He moaned about the Empress being afraid to do battle and preferring The Game and diplomatic options.  Apparently, there’s a disaffected faction in Orlais who want immediate action.  That faction consists of families who lost lands when we defeated them.  They have ties to your Society for Trade and Culture.

“Duncan is right, by the way, this darkspawn activity is unusual.  A rise in darkspawn activity can presage a Blight.  Perhaps we should read the histories in the Warden compound and Castle libraries.”  Fergus thought for a moment.  “Lys did a lot of reading about wardens and Blights some years ago.  I’ll write to her as well.”

“Blight.  Pah!  Sounds more like Orlesian plotting to make us think a Blight threatens.  What did the other Chevalier argue?”

Fergus gave Loghain a sidelong glance.

“Fine, we’ll read up on it.”  Loghain muttered.  “What else?”

“That coming in with the Wardens would achieve their goals.  He believes the Wardens and Chevaliers would get here in time to defeat the Blight before Ferelden fell.  The chevaliers will let Ferelden forces fight first, making Ferelden’s defeat after the Blight that much easier.”

“The Wardens don’t understand the Chevaliers’ aims or choose not to.  They know the Chevaliers will accompany then in case of a Blight, but don’t acknowledge any threat to Fereldan.  The Wardens think we Fereldens should only worry about defeating the Blight by, as they say, any means necessary.  Any means necessary includes Orlesian Wardens and companies of Chevaliers.  They worry our resistance to chevaliers will allow a Blight to spread.”  Fergus smirked.  “You confirmed their fears rather well today as far as Duncan and Riordan were concerned.”

“I was right!”

“True, but the wardens don’t know that.  To get back to the chevaliers, they agreed that the Empress’ peaceful accommodation policy moves too slowly.  They appreciate the peace and prosperity she has brought, but argue that she neglects necessary territorial and trade expansion.  They complain that she diverts the nobility with fetes at the palace and forums at the University.  Mining was their other topic.  I fear they will try to retake Perendale and the Blasted Hills Mines from Nevarra if they do not find their own mineral resources in the south or west.  Or they will try to get the resources from us.”

 “Your mines in the Coast Range?”

“Yes, ours, or ones they hope to establish in the Frostbacks.”

“Our Avvar brethren won’t like that one bit.”

“No.  The enemy of our enemy, however.”

“I do like the way you think, Fergus.”  Loghain shook his head.  “We’ll just have to be all the more vigilant, I suppose.  I don’t like how widely the Society for Trade and Culture is spreading throughout Ferelden.  Sympathetic Fereldans will make the Orlesian plans easier to execute.  Do the new trade agreements include the ore mined in the Coast Range?”

“No our trade remains with Nevarra, the Marches and Antiva, but they do want expertise from us for prospecting and testing deposits.  They want the same help we offer to Nevarra and the Blasted Hills mines.  So far we’ve avoided providing it.”

“Maybe it would be good to know what they’re up to?”

“It would be dangerous.  Our experts aren’t trained to spy or evaluate what they hear.  Nor do they want to work for or in Orlais.  We won’t order them to go.”

“No, of course not.  Well, as long as there’s no Blight we’re safe.  I’ll increase the troops on the border outposts.  I already ordered the eight troops escorting Warden Riordan to remain at the Gherlan’s Pass outpost. Perhaps we’ll also keep an eye out for Orlesian prospectors in the Frostbacks?  Cailan needs to know about this too.  He and I can discuss it on our ride back to Denerim.  We can tell Anora when we get back to the palace.”

“Sounds like a wise plan, Your Grace.”

“And I’ll speak with your father.  Cailan surprised me.  It seems he might be ready to talk with Bryce.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you. I hope you continue to read and enjoy. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome comments, encouragement, suggestions and critiques. 
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eye. Her astute comments improve every post. Any errors are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited (SarcasticPiewithdrawl, Vryykolakas), offered Kudos (mackillian), Subscribed and/or Followed. Special thanks to those who Reviewed. Most recently my thanks go to: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, Caraine, Eastern Violet, nymra and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. Knowing others enjoy the story inspires me.


	50. Sowing Suspicions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:28 Dragon - Kingsway to FirstFall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

 “Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

 **Chapter 50 –** **SOWING SUSPICIONS**

* * *

**9:28 Dragon Kingsway  ===  West Road towards Denerim**

“Loghain, that can’t be true.  Chevaliers will accompany the Wardens and then, instead of fighting a Blight, they will turn on Ferelden?  I don’t believe it.”

King Cailan, Loghain and the detachment of Maric’s Shield accompanying them rode along the West Road towards South Reach.  Loghain had postponed telling Cailan what Fergus had learned from the chevaliers at Ostagar, fearing the king would disbelieve his story.  Now he regretted not asking Fergus to accompany them back to Denerim.  Cailan would probably give more credence to Fergus’ portrayal of the chevaliers’ conversation.

“Fergus heard them discussing it, Cailan.”

“His Orlesian is that good?  Maybe he misunderstood.”

“No, Cailan, his Orlesian is that good.  The chevaliers will fight the Blight along with the Wardens.  They aren’t fools, but they won’t leave Ferelden when it’s over.  They will secure what areas they can as they battle the Blight.  They will take the rest of Ferelden, once we have no army left and the Blight is over.”

Cailan rode in silence, back stiff, staring at the road ahead.  Finally, he responded.  “Let me see if I understand.  These two chevaliers say the Chevalier Order will accompany the Orlesian Grey Wardens to Ferelden _if_ a Blight breaks out here.  Once here, they will fight with the Wardens and the Fereldan troops, but hold back, letting the Ferelden troops take the brunt of the battle.  Then, once the Blight is defeated, their orders tell them to turn on any remaining Fereldan troops and conquer us again.  Do I have that right?”

“That is the plan the two chevaliers described.  Assigning Chevalier units to Warden posts masks their intent.  They want us, and the Wardens for that matter, to believe they serve under the Wardens command, when, ultimately, they don’t.”

“Will the Wardens help them conquer Ferelden?”

“I don’t think so.  It sounded like the Wardens were unaware of or did not care about the Orlesian plan.  I doubt it matters to them who rules Ferelden as long as they’re allowed a presence here.  Orlais they care about, because Orlais can provide troops and materiel against the darkspawn.  Orlais has allied with the Wardens to defeat past Blights.  For some reason they seem less sure about Ferelden’s dedication.”  Loghain's eyebrow rose as he spoke the final sentence.

Cailan, frowning, gave Loghain a sidelong glance.  _I suppose that was meant to be a joke._   _Dry humor from a humorless man._

“The Wardens only worry about defeating a Blight-“ 

“- _should one occur_.”  Cailan interrupted.  “Sounds like a very tenuous plan.  The Wardens don’t know that this darkspawn activity means a Blight.”

“It is tenuous, Cailan.  The chevaliers said as much.  It’s a plan they will put in motion only if a Blight breaks out in Ferelden.  Great armies have plans for every contingency.  The fact that they have this plan should give us pause.  It shows Orlais’ clear intent to retake and re-occupy Ferelden by any possible means – even using a Blight.  This is not the first time Orlais has threatened us using, or in concert with, Grey Wardens.”

“You mean when Father went off with the Wardens years ago?”

“Yes.  He almost died.  Those Grey Wardens had no interest in Ferelden’s independence.  To get what they wanted, they abetted Orlesian plans to reclaim Ferelden.” 

“That was twenty years ago and father said it was a few rogue wardens, not the whole organization.”

“That was his argument when he let them re-establish themselves here.  I never agreed with it, but he was my King and my friend.  I accepted his decision; I never liked it.” 

“Loghain, _you_ must remember time has moved on.  The Occupation ended thirty years ago.  Celene is not Florian.  She will not put a Meghren on the throne of Ferelden.  When we go to Orlais this summer, I’ll add Blight preparation to our discussions in light of the darkspawn activity.  The Empress may be unaware of these plans.  You said the Chevaliers did not like her policies.  Maybe the“ _orders_ come from some disgruntled noble or the Chevalier commander.”

“Cailan, they don’t like her policies because they see them as too slow.  She wants to reclaim Ferelden too, just not immediately by force.”

“When I return to Denerim I will have Eamon lodge a complaint with the Orlesian Ambassador about the two chevaliers at Ostagar.  We will stipulate that the Crown must approve any future _visits_ by chevaliers in advance.  Orlais must present a request through normal ambassadorial channels.  Approval should not be assumed.  When I visit, next Bloomingtide, I will emphasize our displeasure and repeat that the Crown must agree before a single chevalier enters Ferelden.  Orlais must remember that we are a sovereign state.”

“That’s tantamount to saying come ravage my lands, enslave my people and steal our goods, but please ask permission first.”  Loghain’s raised voice attracted the attention of the escort.  He took a deep breath.

“It is not, Loghain,” Cailan stated through clenched teeth.  “It is stating that we must understand the reason and agree.  If we do not agree, if we disapprove, then Chevalier units do not enter Ferelden.  No chevaliers cross the border, with or without Grey Wardens unless I approve.”

“You think it’s that simple?”  Loghain’s reply was as intense, although he kept his voice lowered.

“At present, yes.  Empress Celene does not want war. Your chevaliers proved that.  The disputes of the Occupation are over.  She will not impose a foreign ruler on Ferelden.  That failed.  She wants two things.  First, she wants Orlais to be Ferelden’s main trading partner.  That will hurt Nevarra, potentially hurt Ferelden if not handled well, and enrich Orlais.  Eamon would give in to every Orlesian…suggestion and limit trade to other nations.  I will not, but I will allow trade with Orlais, as my father did.”  Cailan hesitated.  He found it useful to point out when he continued his father’s policies.  Even if Loghain had disagreed with the policies, the fact that they were Maric’s usually calmed Loghain down.  His next revelation should calm Loghain as well.  “That is why I will take Teyrn Cousland with me to Orlais in Bloomingtide.”

Loghain raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Ha.  Didn’t expect that did you?  Teyrn Cousland will balance Eamon.  We will keep our existing trading partners and add Orlais, to our benefit.  Second, Empress Celene wants a royal marriage.  I know that.  I’ve already turned her down.  Now, with Anora about to give birth, that subject goes away.”

Loghain stared at him, as the meaning of his words sank in. 

“Yes, Loghain, she asked me to set Anora aside.  You must have assumed that.  And yes, Eamon supported her.  I refused.”

“And that did not convince you she wants Ferelden back?  Or that Eamon is a traitor.”

“It convinces me she wants Ferelden subservient to Orlais.  She’ll keep trying and I’ll keep refusing.  I’ll refuse a betrothal for our child.  I’ll refuse her fostering offers.  I’ll refuse.  Eamon can sputter and fume all he wants.  I _will_ refuse.

“You knew.  You knew she had these plans and you never mentioned them.  You knew Eamon was pushing them forward and you keep him as your Chancellor?”

“Eamon’s looking for glory.  He wants to surpass his father and sister in Ferelden lore.  To have a place in the tales and a puppet ruler to manage.  I am not his puppet, Loghain, regardless of what you think.  Nor am I yours.  Think, Loghain.  What advice do you give me?  I knew you would have this reaction _.  Over-reaction_.  You say nothing new.  I can predict every word.  I need advisors who tell me what I don’t know.  Who provide good suggestions.  Who are not mired in the past. 

“I confer with Fergus.  With Anora.  With Arl Howe.  With those who offer suggestions I can use.  Eamon prefers a policy more friendly to Orlais than I would like, but it’s a policy, Loghain, not treason.  And not criticism.  It’s more than you offer.  Eamon’s ideas cannot go forward unless I allow it.  Speak with Anora.  She’ll agree with me.  Eamon has been here since Father died.  You weren’t. 

“Since you returned, what suggestions do you have beyond building up our armies and resisting every new idea anyone proposes.  I appreciate your military leadership, Loghain.  We need to have an army ready to defend us, but it’s not my priority.  Ferelden’s economic well-being is.  If we are wealthy through trade we can resist influences from Orlais, Nevarra or any other nation.”

“Plotting to hand Ferelden over to that…Maker help me…that’s not treason?”

“Listen to yourself Loghain.  Eamon does not plan to hand Ferelden over to anyone.  Have you heard anything I’ve said?  Eamon believes, as Teyrn Cousland does, as Anora does and as my father did, that trade brings peace.  He advocates expanded trade.  He advocates improving Ferelden’s economy.  We differ in how much of our trade goes to Orlais, not whether to trade at all.  I plan to suggest House Haris or another Nevarran House open a compound in Amaranthine, by the way.  The Orlesians there need competition.  Fergus suggested that.  Anora agrees.  Now, unless you have something to contribute besides alarmist warnings, our conversation has ended.”  Cailan waited for Loghain to reply.  “No?  Then I suggest you see to our security for the remainder of the ride.  Making sure the Shield is fully prepared seems to be what you do best.”

Loghain rode ahead to speak with his Shield captain.  He and Cailan spoke little during the rest of the ride home.

**9:28 Dragon Kingsway  ===  Royal Palace, Denerim**

On his return to Denerim Loghain repeated the conversation to Anora.  He stood in front of the fireplace in her solar.  Anora sat in a cushioned chair with her feet up and a book held in her hand.  She agreed with Cailan, but hoped to ease her father into her point of view.

“Father, when it comes to Orlais, you do over-react.  It’s black or white with you.  You would have no trade, no relations.  Our economy could stagnate and we would know nothing of what goes on there.”

“And the Orlesians would not have footholds in Amaranthine, Highever and Denerim.  And soon, in Redcliffe, if Eamon has his way this year.”

“Father, you tend to our armies.  It is what you do best.  Work with Cauthrien.  Keep them ready should the worst happen and the darkspawn grow stronger.  Let _us_ work with Orlais.  Working with Eamon allows us to see what he’s up to.  Keeping our enemies close, yes?  Your advice to me in the past.  Why not do it with Orlais too?”

“So close we allow their chevaliers to stroll across our border and meet with our nobles?”

“Father, Eamon had nothing to do with the chevaliers’ presence.  I am disturbed by it.  Cailan took proper action at Ostagar; he will lodge a complaint with the Ambassador.  It seems clear they came with the Warden , not at Eamon’s direction.  He wasn’t even in Redcliffe when they went there.  Nor was Bann Teagan at Rainesfere.”

“Isolde was at home.  She is the impetus behind Eamon’s Orlesian leanings.  He wants glory, as Cailan says.  He missed the Rebellion.  He wants his name in the tales with Rowan and his father.  I think Cailan is right about that.”

“Regardless, his desire for more trade does not constitute treason.  Increased trade benefits Ferelden.  It keeps the Bannorn and the nobles happy.  Eamon bears watching, but nothing more.”  Anora rubbed her middle, smiling.  Loghain realized the baby was kicking. 

“And really, Father, don’t you think most of the Bannorn would have agreed if Eamon proposed to set me aside?  The Landsmeet would have approved setting me aside.  The Chantry would have granted the annulment, if Orlais controls it as much as we suspect Orlais does.  The marriage to Celene would have been announced later.  Would the Landsmeet have approved an Orlesian marriage…I think it’s unlikely.  That point is moot.  Cailan refused before it could happen.”

“Cailan told you this?”

“No.  I’m just telling you how it would have worked.”  _The miscarriage plan made it clear Orlais wanted me declared barren and set aside.  Thankfully, Father knows nothing about it, since we have no proof.  We know why, what and how, just not who.  If it was Eamon, then he has committed treason, but we can’t prove it._   _We suspect, but again don’t know, that the Chantry was complicit._  “I’m surprised, really, that Cailan stuck with me.  Eamon can be very persuasive.  Empress Celene too, I imagine, in more ways than one.  No wonder Cailan was so thrilled when I became pregnant.  It took the pressure off.  He and I have become friends and allies again.  I suspect our improved relations result from more than the baby.  Now he feels less guilty about the annulment conversations.  We talk again.  Ours is not the love match from the tales Cailan wanted, but we can be partners and rule well.”

Loghain sighed.  “I am glad to hear that, Anora.  Your child should have two parents to guide it.  Neither you or Cailan had that.”

“And look how badly we turned out?”

“ _No!_   I just think – well look at Fergus and Lys.  They had happier times and less loneliness than you or Cailan.”

“True.  I can’t argue if you hold up Bryce and, particularly Eleanor, as model parents.  Although,”  she added quietly, “I think my parents did a fine job as well.”

Loghain snorted.  “I was hardly there.  For you or for Celia.”

“You were there infrequently, but when you were at home, we were a happy family, Father.  We loved each other in our own way.”

Loghain turned to face the fire.  He leaned one hand on the mantle.  “I’m glad you think so, Anora.”  He stood silently while Anora opened her book and started reading. 

“I distrust all this trade with Orlais, Anora.  And Bryce!  Cailan plans to take Bryce with him to Val Royeaux with Arl Broughten and Eamon.  Cailan says Bryce has already agreed.  Did you know?”

Anora rolled her eyes.  “Father, he contacted Teyrn Cousland through Fergus.”

“You knew that too?”

“I am the Queen.  Cailan and I do talk.  He enjoys all the international intrigue and foiling Eamon.  It’s a game to him.  I wish he took it more seriously, but he’s a talent for it.  I offer advice, but I don’t enjoy it as he does.  I do agree that adding Teyrn Cousland to the group makes sense.  He’s very knowledgeable about Highever’s trade with Nevarra and Antiva.  He also knows about mining and metals.  Apparently, Orlais has some interest in acquiring new resources in trade or by finding deposits.  Teyrn Cousland balances Eamon, in a way Arl Broughten cannot.  Not only that, it’s a way to ease him back to Court.”

Anora watched Loghain sink back into his chair, feet stretched out towards the fire.  His scowl and silence told Anora he did not fully agree, but that he would hold his tongue and see how events unfolded. 

Fergus would not return to Denerim for two months.  Teyrna Eleanor and Lady Melysande would accompany him after Satinalia ended.  The two Cousland women would attend Anora during the birth and after.  Anora hoped Loghain  would speak with Eleanor and Fergus and get their views on Bryce’s trip once they arrived in the capital.  She suspected his single visit to Highever, since he returned, had been too short.  He and Bryce had patched over their differences, but had not gotten back to their old camaraderie.  _He can’t suspect Bryce would conspire with Orlais!_   She knew  he also missed talking with Eleanor.  She always had sound advice.  _Advice he should have followed when the two had spoken at length in Antiva City.  If only he had come home then, as Eleanor suggested._

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Cailan sat at his desk staring at Eamon.  The Chancellor stood in front of him, arms folded, trying not to glare  at his king.

“I expect Orlais will demand an apology for holding their chevaliers, Cailan.”

“Holding them?  In their own tents?  And an apology?  Two Orlesian Chevaliers entered my country without my leave, Eamon.  That’s close to an act of war.  Any apologies should come from Orlais.  I expect you to demand one from the Orlesian Ambassador.”

“As you tell it, Your Majesty, the two chevaliers accompanied two Grey Wardens and were under their command.  Grey Wardens have open access to Ferelden under the agreement King Maric made with them to allow them to return.”

“Grey Wardens, Eamon, not chevaliers.”

“I don’t agree.”

“I don’t care whether you agree.  I want an apology from Orlais, a promise it won’t happen again and assurances that Orlesian chevaliers or troops of any kind will secure permission to enter Ferelden, with Grey Wardens, before doing so.  It’s your job to go to the Orlesian Ambassador and lodge the complaint.”

Eamon refrained from rolling his eyes.  “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

“No, Eamon.  On second thought, have the Orlesian Ambassador present himself here.  I’ll lodge the complaint.  I want to be clear about our displeasure.  I don’t believe you will make the point firmly enough.”

Eamon drew himself up and crossed his arms.  “If you have no confidence in me, Your Majesty, I will resign.”

Cailan did roll his eyes.  It was Eamon’s standard response when Cailan disagreed with him.  “Not today, Eamon.  You can keep the Chancellorship for now.  Just have the Ambassador here in the morning.”

**9:28 Dragon First Fall  ===  Vigil’s Keep**

Delilah sat quietly at breakfast while her father questioned Thomas about his life at South Reach.  Who visited?  Who did Arl Bryland write to?  How was their harvest?  How many farmholds are pledged to the Arl?  What were the sons like?  Were they warriors?  Did the Arl have a large militia and guard?  Would Habren move back to South Reach after she and Vaughan Kendalls married at Summerday?  Kendalls would be at West Hills completing his squiring.  Would Habren join him there?  Delilah let her mind drift as the questioning went on.

She and Thom had returned with their father to Vigil’s Keep for Satinalia.  King Maric’s decree banning Thom from Denerim would continue for another year.  Whenever he visited his family, they left for the Keep immediately.  She hated these visits.  The Keep was a dreary place.  Nathaniel had enjoyed the outdoors, hunting, fishing and riding.  She liked the city.  If only they had a small house in Amaranthine.  At least she could visit friends and shop.  Here there was nothing.  _Although, the new Seneschal does have the staff under control.  Everything runs better since he arrived.  Even the food is edible.  I hope he and father get along, so he doesn’t leave like all the others._

“Father, I’ve told you all I know.”  Thom had begun whining, Delilah noted.  _Probably a hangover.  He should write a report before he comes home.  Then he wouldn’t have to endure so many questions and I wouldn’t have to listen to them._

South Reach and West Hills differed from both Redcliffe and Amaranthine.  Redcliffe consisted of the imposing castle, the village and a few surrounding farmholds.  Amaranthine included not only simple farmholds, but also other banns and knights’ holdings.  South Reach and West Hills fell in between.  Neither arl had any banns pledged to them, but a few knights and many small farmholders did look to their respective arls for protection and, in return, pledged a portion of their crops and militia service.  South Reach also had the large town, which had built up around the Arl’s Keep and manor on the West Road.  Only a village surrounded the more remote Keep at West Hills.

Thom continued his reply.  “Arl Bryland maintains good relations with all the surrounding banns.  He does write to Arl Broughten and Teyrn Cousland, as well as to Arl Wulff, Bann Teagan, Bann Alfstanna, Bann Urien, Bann Ceorlic and several others in the Bannorn.  He keeps up a regular correspondence with many banns and nobles.”  Thomas leaned his head against the high back of the chair and closed his eyes.  He had only had a little to drink the evening before, but his head still ached.

“Yes, yes.  If only you were stealthier, you could read the content, but it would be pointless to expect you to search his study.”

“What would I be looking for, Father?”

“Anything that ties him to Orlais, to Cousland, to rebellion.”

“Arl Bryland?  Father, the man is as loyal a Fereldan as exists.  He won’t even trade with Orlais.  He’s as bad as Teyrn Mac Tir.”

Rendon Howe looked angry for a moment.  Delilah braced herself for an explosion.  Then he calmed. 

“You’re right, Thomas.  He is.  He lives in the heart of the country.  Just keep your eyes and ears open.  Bryland may be loyal, but his friends may stray.  Highever presents an opening for Orlais now that they have a trading compound established.  Cousland may get greedy.”

“Yes, Father.  Of course, I will.  I don’t understand, though, there are compounds in Denerim and Amaranthine.  How is the one at Highever different?” 

“Teyrn Cousland is more open to foreign adventures, Thomas.”  He spoke patiently, as if to a child.  Delilah grew nervous when her father became too patient.  “Combine Cousland’s greed, an active Society for Trade and Culture and a large Orlesian presence and…well who knows what might develop.  Highever’s coast is riddled with smugglers’ coves and empty beaches, which could welcome invaders.  A whole army could be landed and assembled before Denerim knew about it.  Remember Teyrn Cousland opposed our King at the Landsmeet four years ago.  Do you think his ambitions have diminished.  Or those of his son?”

Thomas nodded.  Delilah tried not to appear puzzled.  _Surely, I would have heard of concerns about Teyrn Cousland at Court.  Instead, the rumors say King Cailan may bring him back.  The King already considers Lord Fergus a friend.  Is father fabricating this?  Why?  Does he want the Teyrn to remain discredited?_ Delilah watched her father taste his porridge and scowl.  It had probably cooled as he questioned Thomas. 

As Arl Howe called to a servant to bring hot porridge, Thomas smirked at Delilah. 

“How do you fare at the palace, sister?”

Delilah scowled back.  Now her father would start questioning her.

“Yes, Delilah, how is our Queen?”

“In good health, Father.  The babe should arrive in a month or so.”

“Will it?  Surprising.  I expected her to miscarry.  Rumors have it that she has in the past, but covered it up.”

“Not since I’ve been with her, Father.  I think I would notice.  She had the morning sickness early on, but once that cleared she’s been the picture of health.”

“Interesting.  A Theirin heir will disappoint some and gladden others.”

“Why would anyone be disappointed?  There are no other heirs.”  Thomas cocked his head, frowning.

“No heirs, that is correct.  Aspirants, may be a better term.  They surfaced when King Maric died.  Cousland is one.  There may be others.”

“You, Father?”  Delilah spoke up, wondering as she spoke why she felt so bold.

“Never!  The Howe’s have supported the Theirin line since Calenhad.”

“I thought your father, our grandfather, supported the Usurper.”

Rendon Howe stared at his daughter, expressionless.  Almost whispering, he replied.  “He did what was necessary to save the Arling.  You will never say such a thing again.”

“As you say, Father.”  Delilah hated when he spoke softly.  It usually meant he was angry.  She flinched as he spoke.  _Why did I say that?_

“Do I frighten you daughter?”  Howe almost smiled.

“At times, Father, yes.” 

“Good.  If you fear me you will obey.”

“I try to obey, Father.”

“That’s the mistake I made with your other brother.  He did not fear me.”

Thomas sat silently, not moving.  He was not as foolish as Nathaniel.  He did fear his father.

“You return to Denerim tomorrow?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Good.  Thomas you will go with your sister and see her safely delivered to the palace and then you will continue on to South Reach.  You will not remain in Denerim more than one night.  We will abide by the terms of King Maric’s declaration.”

“Yes, Father.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“Varel, get me Magister Demetrius.”  Howe brushed past his Seneschal as he gave the order and walked into his study.

The Magister soon joined him, closing the door and locking it behind him. 

“What is your concern today, Arl Rendon?”

“Eamon Guerrin and Loghain Mac Tir.  You have vials with their blood.  What results can you report?”

The Magister nodded.  “We have not attempted any trials with Arl Guerrin.  His wife and family will notice changes or erratic behavior.  We have been unable to get blood for King Cailan and Queen Anora.  They are well protected.  Truth be told, the last thing we need is for your Chantry to think the King or Queen is under magical influence of any kind.  It may be possible to bring either or both of them under our influence later, but it’s not possible now.

“Teyrn Mac Tir, on the other hand, lives alone with few servants.  This made getting his blood easier.  He protects himself against mundane attacks – poisoning for example, but not against magic.  His habits make acquiring blood easier.”

Rendon Howe raised his eyebrows.  “I find that hard to believe given Loghain’s obsessive distrust of Orlais.  He makes sure Gwaren House is secure, if only because the Queen visits.”

The Magister smiled.  “You must know, given your ancient lineage, that Denerim is riddled with tunnels.  The Alamarri during the later Ages built Denerim over earlier Tevinter, Avvar and Alamarri mines and ruins.  Similar to Vigil’s Keep, the basements of Denerim’s estates, homes and buildings, particularly the older ones, can go deep.  Tunnels connect many of them to each other, the seacoast or the countryside outside the walls.  You must know this.  Amaranthine House must have deep basements.”

Howe nodded, grudgingly.  “I prefer not to advertise the fact.  Having hidden exits can be useful, as I’m sure you know.”  _I should improve the security of Amaranthine House’s entrances to the tunnels.  I don’t need blood mages invading my estate._

“Gwaren House is also an ancient estate.  Not only is it connected to the tunnels beneath the city, it has passages running throughout its walls.  Many passages have no outlets except in the basement, because prior Teyrns blocked the secret doors on the upper floors.  Two remain, however, and we found them easily from inside the passages.  From outside, they cannot be located or opened unless you know their location.  Despite Teyrn Loghain’s attempts to secure his estate, it is vulnerable from the basements.     

“As for the Teyrn’s habits, he often reads far into the night, while he sips whiskey and eventually falls asleep in his chair.  Once he’s asleep, we can add a sleeping spell to ensure he won’t awaken, take blood and heal the wound.  He wakes up none the wiser.” 

“It seems far too simple.”

“Loghain protects himself against Orlais.  He expects poison, blades, Crows perhaps, but not magic or mages emerging from secret passages.”

“The entrance is near his study?”

“The entrance is _in_ his study, cleverly hidden.  I assume it once provided an escape for the Teyrn, but now it’s a newly oiled entrance for us.  His bedroom is next to his study, so we have access to him as sleeps.  The only problem is his mabari, but we cast a sleeping spell on the dog and he presents no problem.  Fortunately the dog can’t speak.”

“Exactly what can you do with your blood magic?”

“Influence his mind.  After demons invading from the fade, blood mages’ influence and mind control are what the Chantry fears most, as they should.  Blood mages can enter the Fade, find the sleeping mind of another and see their dreams.  More importantly, we can influence and dominate thoughts through the sleeping mind.  In Loghain’s case, we only want to influence him.  Increase his obsessions with Orlais.  Plant thoughts that make his suspicions deepen.

Rendon Howe frowned.  “You can increase his obsession with Orlais?  Convince him friends and allies have betrayed him?” 

“We think so.  The Teyrn has strongly held convictions.  We cannot change them or make him act against his beliefs, but we can use those beliefs.  So yes, increase his distrust of Orlais.  Suggest ulterior motives for the actions of others.  Raise suspicions based on hard evidence – real or forged.”  The Magister smiled.  “I suspect you have the resources to provide such evidence?”

“I do.”  Howe squeezed his upper lip and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.  _Marjolaine may be useful afterall.  Any documents presented to Loghain need to be impeccable.  He will probably show them to the Queen.  She’s sharper than he is.  “_ But won’t those around him become suspicious when his behavior changes?”

“No, this is not thralldom.  He will not be under our control.  Thralls live only a short time and look the part.  We want Loghain’s actions to be his own, performed in a natural way.  Any changes to his behavior will occur gradually and be driven by his own convictions.  It will take time, Your Lordship.

“There could be physical issues, however, headaches or disturbed sleep.  He won’t realize we intrude upon his dreams, but he might suffer from lack of sleep on occasion.  He’s not the type to complain about such things, I think.”

“How do you know he’ll be susceptible to your spells?”

“We tested the spells before his recent trip.  He suffered from the expected disturbed sleep and headaches, but nothing more serious.  We believe his suspicions of Orlais were heightened because he reacted quite strongly to the appearance of two chevaliers in Ostagar.”

Howe chuckled.  “Yes, we all heard about that.  Most think he over-reacted.  You would think the whole Orlesian army had invaded.  I don’t trust Orlais either, but all this clamoring over two chevaliers?  Perhaps he over-reacted due to your spells?  It’s hard to tell with him.  He did annoy the king.  They’re barely speaking.  Useful.  From what you say…have you a spy in place in his household?”

“No.  His servants are loyal and we could find no way to suborn them.  We did discover listening posts.  One is by the kitchens and, inside his house, the servants do talk.  We hear he has no partners, he sleeps poorly some nights, he peruses maps of the Frostbacks to ensure every route into Ferelden is blocked and he has no guests.

“I could have told you that.  The man has no feelings, no normal needs.”

“He has a lot of guilt and a drive to do what he believes is best for Ferelden.  The lever is his obsessive distrust of Orlais.  Convince him Orlais threatens and then show him which Fereldens stand ready to betray their country.  He’ll believe the evidence if it’s well forged.” 

The Magister saw the smile spread across Rendon Howe’s face.

“So we can manipulate Loghain through facts or what appear to him to be facts?  We can poke those niggling doubts about Bryce Cousland?  The man did oppose Cailan after all.  Once he suspects Bryce Cousland, I’ll have a free hand to dispense rough justice and apologize later with further evidence of his treachery.  Eamon will be easier, as Loghain already suspects his involvement with Orlais.  Eamon’s usefulness will diminish once Cousland’s discredited.  The Bannorn will have no leader; the Landsmeet will look to me, as the head of the oldest noble line, to lead them.  Loghain has credibility as a war leader, not as a politician.  The King and Queen can propose, but the Landsmeet can oppose.”  Howe smiled as he considered the possibilities. 

“I understand this will take time.  Cousland and Guerrin go to Orlais with the King in Bloomingtide.  We can start sowing suspicion about their motives after they return in Justinian.  We have seven months to prepare our plans.”

“It would be best to take it slowly, if you wish to convince others as well.  Loghain may resist believing Teyrn Cousland is betraying Ferelden.  They are friends are they not?”

“They were until Bryce opposed Cailan for the Crown.  They’ve reconciled, but not resumed their former closeness.  Partly because Teyrn Cousland is not welcome at Court.”

“Ah, well that’s another doubt we can place.  Has Teyrn Cousland really given up his ambitions?”

 Howe rubbed his upper lip.  “He says he never had them.”  _This can work. In a year, Cousland and Guerrin can be discredited or worse.  Loghain will continue to rant about Orlais and be relegated to military preparations.  Despite his daughter, he will lose all political influence.  Even the Queen will find his advice useless.  He and the King already annoy each other.  that can only get worse.  Once he’s sidelined, I’ll befriend him, sympathize and we can work together for Ferelden’s future._ Howe smiled.

 Magister Demetrius stood quietly while Howe thought.  Finally, the Arl looked up.

“Thank you, Demetrius.  Do what you can before Bloomingtide, but plan on increasing our efforts once the delegation returns from Orlais in Justinian.  In the meantime, I’ll consider what documents might be useful and have them prepared.  I’m a patient man.  We will do this right and succeed.”

Demetrius nodded.  “We can work slowly, Your Lordship.  Build the distrust.  Be sure to tell me of any events at Court or the Landsmeet I can use to sow further suspicions between now and then. 

“I will.  Now, the package I owe you.”  Rendon handed Magister Demetrius a small, sealed ceramic container.

“Thank you, Your Lordship.”  Demetrius would send the container to a Grand Magister in Tevinter as he had for years.  As usual, he wondered what the vial contained and where it came from.  _The Grand Magister pays well for it, so it must please him._ Demetrius handed Arl Howe a heavy coin pouch _.  Why doesn’t the Grand Magister discover the source?  Then he wouldn’t have to pay the man.  Do we need the Arl that much?_

Magister Demetrius watched while the Arl put the coin pouch into a casket on his desk.  _He provides more than this service of course.  His slave business would be hard to manage without him.  Most Fereldan’s won’t touch it; even fewer would do it as cleverly.  He has set himself up quite well.  He provides us with necessary tools.  We provide him with money.  .  He uses the Orlesian trade to hide the profits from his business with us and no one in Ferelden is the wiser.  He is not liked, but he’s respected in their government, such as it is.  One must admire him.  A clever man, but one to be feared._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you. I hope you continue to read and enjoy. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome comments, encouragement, suggestions and critiques. 
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eyes. Her astute comments improve every post. Any errors are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. Special thanks to those who Reviewed: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, Caraine, KatDancer2, nymra and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. Knowing others enjoy the story inspires me.


	51. Endless Possibilities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:28 Dragon, Firstfall through 9:29 Dragon Guardian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

 “Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 51 – ENDLESS POSSIBILITIES**

* * *

_Title from Threnodies 5:1_  
 _And His Word became all that might be:_  
 _Dream and idea, hope and fear,  
_ _Endless possibilities._

**9:28 Dragon  18 Firstfall  ===  Royal Palace Denerim**

Teyrna Eleanor Cousland arrived at the palace with Healer Nyla and her daughter Melysande a few weeks after Satinalia celebrations ended.  Anora invited them to stay in the Palace, rather than Highever House, so they could more easily attend her.  King Cailan greeted them as they settled in.

“Teyrna Eleanor.  Lady Melysande.  Thank you for coming.”  The young king shifted uneasily.  “It’s been too long since we greeted you here, Your Grace.”

“It has been too long, Your Majesty, but it’s good to see you now.  Particularly at this happy time.”

Cailan smiled, his nervous shifting stopped.  _At least she didn’t scold me_.  _I spend too much time with Eamon and Loghain, I suppose, expecting to be scolded._   “Well, mostly happy.  Anora…she’s uncomfortable most of time.”

“That is to be expected, Your Majesty.  Quite normal.”  Eleanor softened her brusque tone with a warm smile.

“I also want to thank you for bringing your healer.”  He nodded to Nyla who bowed again.  “We both feel more confident with an experienced mage.  The court mage has never delivered a baby or worked with a midwife.”

“Nyla has, Your Majesty.  In fact, she delivered Lys and many more babes over the years.”

“Well, I am pleased you are all here.  Anora is in her rooms and looks forward to seeing you.  I’ll um…I’ll let her know you arrived.”  Cailan smiled and hurried out of the room.

“Not too awkward,” Lys said.

“At least he agreed to our visit.  I wasn’t sure Anora would convince him.  Fergus claims he’s much less angry than he was, but he hasn’t yet discussed receiving your father and I at Court.”

“Well, we’re here and in the palace.  That we have an apartment here surprised me most, although I am most grateful.  It can be a long, cold ride from Highever House in the winter.”

Teyrna Eleanor laughed.  “Yes it can.  I must say I’m relieved to be here as well.  Now let’s go see Her Majesty.”

The Cousland women and Nyla entered the reception area outside Anora’s apartment where Anora’s maid Erlina curtsied and greeted them.

“Please, come with me, Your Grace.  My Lady is anxious to see you.”

Anora sat in a chair before the fire with her legs elevated on a cushioned stool.  Much to Lys’ surprise, Cailan sat next to the stool on the floor massaging her ankles and feet.  Anora’s three Ladies-in-Waiting sat near the window.  Habren embroidered, shifting restlessly in her seat as the Couslands entered.  Taking advantage of the King and Queen’s attention being focused on the Couslands, Habren barely nodded to acknowledge their entrance.  Delilah knitted, but stood to curtsy to the Teyrna, before frowning at Habren and then resuming her work.  Philippa stood spinning with a spindle, distaff at her side and a basket full of cleaned wool at her feet.  Pippa smiled when Lys and her Mum entered.  She put down her spindle, curtsied and moved to the Queen’s side.  Cailan stood as the Highever women entered.

“Eleanor.  Lys.  Thank you both for coming.”  Anora remained seated as she greeted them.

“You’re welcome, Your Majesty,” Eleanor Cousland replied, as she and Lys curtsied   Nyla bowed.

Anora smiled at the third woman wearing mage robes.  “You must be Healer Nyla?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you for attending me.”

“It’s an honor, Your Majesty.”

“You must want to meet with our mid-wife.”

“Yes and your Court Mage, Your Majesty.  The best way to gain experience is to observe and participate.”

“Of course, I hoped you would include Healer Paul.  Erlina, will you take Healer Nyla to meet Midwife Gytha and then ask Healer Paul to join them, please.”

Erlina curtsied, Nyla bowed and they left.

“Habren, you have leave to go and stay at Bryland Place.  Please take all the time you need with your mother.  I know making plans for your wedding will occupy most of your days.  I will send for you if I need you.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.  We do have much to do.  Arl Urien has left all the planning in our hands.“  Habren stood and put her handwork in a bag.  She barely nodded to Lys, but curtsied to Teyrn Eleanor.  “We have use of our estate and his.”  She smirked at Lys and Pippa as she passed by.

Lys rolled her eyes, as Pippa covered her mouth, stifling a giggle with a cough.  King Cailan would allow Vaughan to come to Denerim for the wedding,  Pippa had told Lys,  but Vaughan would have to return to West Hills to complete his last year as a squire.  Marrying before his service to Arl Wulff ended was irregular, but Vaughan had started his squiring late and Habren was anxious to marry.  Habren would spend her time at South Reach, when Arl Urien did not need her as his hostess in Denerim during Satinalia and Wintersend.  Vaughan would be allowed to visit South Reach.  Most important to Cailan, Anora would no longer have to put up with Habren as one of her ladies.     

“Would you like me to leave as well, Your Majesty?  I’m sure you have much to discuss with Teyrna Cousland.”  

“No, Delilah, of course not.  I’ll need you and Lady Philippa now that Habren has gone.  She won’t officially give up her duties until Cloudreach, but I have given her leave to be absent until then.”  Anora turned to Lys.  “I have a request Lady Cousland.  Would you attend me in Habren’s place?  Unofficially for now, but I’ll need a new Lady come Cloudreach.”  Anora looked at Cailan, pursing her lips.

He rubbed his neck.  “Of course, Lys can attend you, if she agrees.”  He turned to look at Lys.  “And I hope you do agree, Lys.  Right now I must meet with Eamon and be bored by his ramblings.”  He grinned at Anora, as if to say, I do want them here.  “Shall I send a servant to tell your father Teyrna Eleanor and Lys have arrived?  I think he’s at the Shield’s compound.”

“Please.  I’m sure he wants to greet them.”  Anora smiled at Cailan.

“Ladies, I’ll leave you for now, but I expect I’ll see you at dinner.”  Cailan inclined his head to the two Cousland women and Anora.

As Cailan left, Teyrn Eleanor looked at Anora with a raised eyebrow. 

Anora smiled and shook her head.  “He’s happy to see you, Eleanor.  He finds meeting you again awkward, which is a new sensation for him.”

Eleanor laughed.  “I imagine so.”

Erlina returned with servants carrying cakes, apples, cheese and hot tea and cider.  They set the food on a side table and left. 

“I’m afraid I eat several small meals during the day.  Eating a whole meal is beyond me at this point.”  Anora rubbed her abdomen.  “And I’m afraid you must put up with a cool room.  A large fire makes me so uncomfortable.  With a small fire, we don’t have to open the windows.”

“Anora, don’t apologize.  This is all quite normal and expected,” Eleanor assured her.  

“Eleanor, I am truly grateful that you came.  Cailan didn’t object at all.  I hope you won’t mind Cailan stealing Bryce for his trip to Orlais in Bloomingtide.  I think it’s a great step forward.  As for you becoming one of my Ladies, Lys, it would please me greatly if you would.  I know you have a life with House Haris, but I thought perhaps, for a year or so, you might stay here in Ferelden.”

“I…that’s an honor, Your Majesty.  I would be happy to.”  Lys grinned.  “It would be lovely to live in Ferelden again.  With your leave, I could still keep my hand in at the local Haris compound.  Afterall, who else will keep you dressed as a queen should - in the latest fabrics and styles?”

“Lys!”  Pippa scolded.  “You’ll have to show more respect.”

“She will behave appropriately I’m sure.  She’s her mother’s daughter.”  Anora smiled indulgently.  “And she’s right about the fabrics and styles.  Not only are they lovely, but more comfortable as well.  I’ll not give up that counsel, Lys.”

Delilah sat quietly listening and watching.  It surprised her at how well both Lys and Eleanor Cousland knew the queen.  Eleanor even called her by her given name as soon as everyone else had left.  It seemed that the two Cousland women had kept in touch with Queen Anora over the years.  _I wonder if King Cailan knew?_   _Lys must have met with her at House Haris, given the references to clothing.  I wonder if my father knew?_   Delilah sat knitting and wondering why the Queen had bid her stay.  She and Pippa had become friends since coming to serve the queen, but she and Lys Cousland had never been close.  

_Her Majesty must know I tell father much of what happens here.  Why has she let me stay?  I hate this.  I hate choosing what or how much to tell Father.  At least we won’t have to listen to Habren talk about her wedding._ Delilah sighed.  She had to admit to herself that she would rather die an old maid, than marry Vaughan Kendalls. _I doubt I’ll ever marry now.  Father will keep me here spying forever._  She looked at Lys.  _She hasn’t married either.  Father hasn’t mentioned it in years, but I wonder if he still thinks Thomas should marry her?  She won’t inherit Highever, but her children would be in line for the teyrnir after…_ She flinched and dropped a stitch _…no, even Papa couldn’t do anything to harm Fergus or his son._

**_o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o_ **

Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir already knew Teyrna Cousland and her daughter had arrived when the messenger Cailan sent arrived at the Practice Yard.  Fergus had escorted his mother and sister to Denerim.  Once he saw them into the Palace, Fergus had gone to find the Teyrn.

“Fergus, I assume your mother and sister arrived safely, since you’re here?”

“They have, Your Grace.”

“Anora looks forward to their company.  And the assistance of your healer.  Thank you for that.”  The Teyrn stared at the ground.  Fergus was not sure where his thoughts had gone.  “We had no mages in Gwaren.  Celia, although sensible in so many ways, was pious and feared them.  I couldn’t convince her otherwise.  I don’t know if magic could have saved her.  I don’t want those doubts if the worst should happen with Anora.”

“I understand, Your Grace.”

Loghain stared at the young nobleman.  “You and Oriana have lost…?”

“Yes.”

“Then you do know.  I know Eleanor does as well.” 

Fergus abruptly changed the subject, expressing his latest concern.  “I’ve heard disturbing rumors Teyrn Loghain.  About you and Cailan being estranged.”

“Not rumors.”  Loghain rubbed his neck.  “I should have let you tell him about the Orlesian chevaliers’ conversation.  He didn’t believe me.  Or didn’t believe it was that serious, coming from me.  Even Maric used to tease me about finding an Orlesian assassin behind every bush.  Cailan grew up hearing that.  Then I blamed them for Maric’s disappearance and found nothing.  He’s skeptical of my judgment.”

“Just because you are paranoid, doesn’t mean Orlesians aren’t trying to kill you.”

Loghain responded with a slight smile.  “No, a point I used to make to Maric… and your father.  Sometimes they would listen.  Cailan, however, is not so receptive.  He and Eamon plan their annual visit to Val Royeaux as we speak.  Cailan says he plans to include your father this year, along with Arl Broughten.”  Loghain pursed his lips, frowning, and glared towards the Palace.  “ _His Majesty_ , says that there are bound to be some renegade Chevaliers who resent losing their lands in Ferelden, but he doesn’t believe there’s a large plot among all the Chevaliers who support the Wardens.  Empress Celene admitted that there is opposition to her policies.  She assured him she did not support any efforts to retake Ferelden by force and he believes her.  She only wants friendly, profitable relations wither her neighbors, Ferelden and Nevarra.”

At that Fergus, scoffed, “Maker’s toenails.  She’s sending saboteurs to Perendale and the Blasted Hills mines regularly.  She’ll do whatever it takes.  She may prefer peaceful means, but she won’t accept defeat.”  He looked up sheepishly.  “Sorry, it’s a worry for us too.  We invested in the Nevarran mines through house Haris.” 

“As it should be.  At least you realize the limitations of Empress Celene’s assurances.  Cailan agrees the two chevaliers should not have entered Ferelden without his leave and points out that he supported me in Ostagar.  As if that removes the threat.  He simply says he will inform Celene that, before chevaliers enter Ferelden, he must be informed and agree.”  Loghain rubbed his neck again.  “That’s tantamount to saying please come ravage my lands, enslave my people and steal our goods.”

“You didn’t-“

“-say that to him.  Of course I did.  He did not receive it well.  Then when I pointed out that the Wardens don’t care about Ferelden, that they only want to defeat the Blight, but he refused to believe it.  Said if there is a Blight, he’ll lead the Ferelden army to victory at the Warden’s side, with or without me.  Emphasized that he’ll allow any Wardens to enter Ferelden to fight a Blight.  If Chevaliers or mercenaries accompany the Wardens, he will allow it.

“I pointed out that we don’t even know that a Blight threatens.  That it could be a means to get chevaliers into Ferelden.  He said it did not care what we called it.  If darkspawn ravaged his lands, he would defeat them.  Whether it was a large incursion or a true Blight didn’t matter.

“Then he refused to ride with or talk to me for the rest of the trip back.  We manage to be civil when we meet, but try to avoid each other when we can.  He’s decided he can trust the Empress and have good relations with Orlais and nothing will change his belief.”

Loghain walked into the armory and hung his weapons on their stand.  He removed his sparring armor and hung it for the armory squires to clean.  He pulled on loose trousers and a jerkin over his arming clothes.

“Let’s go back to my rooms.”  He noticed Fergus’ questioning look.  “I’m staying at the Palace until the baby is born.  I know, Gwaren House is not far, but I want to be close.  I’m of no use, but at least I’m here.  You can tell me how you left the troops at Ostagar when you went home for Satinalia.  I’ve had Cauthrien’s report, but I’d like to hear your personal observations.”  He clapped Fergus on the back as they left the armory,   “You’ve done a good job, Fergus.  Bryce should be proud.”

**9:28 Dragon  Firstfall  ===  Royal Palace, Denerim**

Cailan and Loghain called a truce when Anora’s labor began.  The two men sat in Cailan’s study pacing, sipping brandy and sitting in front of the fire.  Cailan’s obvious concern surprised and pleased Loghain.

“Is it always this long?”

“I’m no expert, Cailan, but I know it hasn’t been very long yet.  Only half a day.”

“Maker, I wish one of the women would come again and tell us how it goes.”

As if in response to his command, Melysande knocked and entered the study.  “Your Majesty.  Teyrn Loghain.  Mum thought you would be worrying.  She said to tell you all was progressing well.  I’m not that experienced, at least not in human births.”  She grinned at Cailan’s raised eyebrows.  “I do live in the country, Your Majesty.  I’ve assisted with horses, mabari and…well, the occasional sheep.”

“Sheep?”  Cailan almost squeaked.

“Well, I suppose I get involved in all aspects of wool production.”

Cailan laughed and even Loghain smiled.  

“Glad I could make you smile.”  Lys grinned.  “Truly, Anora is fine.  She said to tell you both not to worry.  The birthing is going according to plan.  She instructs both of you to have a good dinner and not to drink too much.”

“To plan?”  This time it was Loghain who snapped a response.

“I think that was meant to be a joke, Loghain.”  Cailan put a hand on his father-in-laws shoulder.

“Anora meant it to be.  Sorry if it didn’t come across well.  Anora was quite insistent I say it just like that.  She also made sure that I order your dinner.  It should arrive shortly.”

“Well, at least we know she’s fine, if she’s making jokes about plans and ordering us a meal.  Only Anora would think she could birth a child according to plan.”  Loghain smiled in spite of himself.  

“I promise, I’ll return and let you know how it’s progressing.  I’ll also report on whether you’ve eaten and, “ she glanced at the brandy bottle and full glasses, “if you’re still sober.  Anora said no drunks will be welcome in her rooms.” 

Cailan laughed and Loghain sighed, as Lys exited chuckling.

Queen Anora bore Crown Princess Elin Theirin in the early evening on 28 Firstfall of 9:28 Dragon.

“A girl.”  Cailan could not contain his smile as he walked into the Queen’s chamber.  “I think that’s wonderful, Anora.  Will the name be Elin?”

Cailan had quickly ruled out Rowan and Moira as names, but asked if Anora would like to name a daughter Celia.  Anora, surprised and pleased by Cailan’s consideration, declined.  Her mother was not well known, but the name would still not belong to their child alone.  Finally, they agreed on Elin.

“I haven’t changed my mind,” she said as he sat carefully on the bed and leaned over to see his child.  Anora, her hair pulled back and tied at her nape.  She looked tired, but happy holding baby Elin for Cailan to see.  “Have you?”

“No.  I like it.  Crown Princess Elin Theirin.  Elin Celia Theirin.”

“I didn’t-“

“-no, you didn’t chose it as a second name, but I did.  I think they go well together.  I know you wish she were here.  It’s the least we can do in her memory.”

“But-“

“-no buts.  If it had been a boy, we would have used Maric, or perhaps Gareth, as his second name.  Besides, everyone knows Rowan.  I don’t need to remind anyone of my mother.  Elin should know her Gwaren roots as well as her Guerrin and Theirin ones.”

Loghain had come in behind Cailan and heard the last part of the conversation.  “Her Gwaren roots?”

Anora smiled at her father.  “Cailan added a second name for Elin.  Elin Celia.”

Loghain stopped and regarded his son-in-law.  “That’s…very thoughtful, Cailan.  It would be nice if Gwaren got to know her.”

“Gwaren shall.  We’ll visit when she’s old enough.  Anora…and _you_ , don’t go home often enough.”

Loghain started to respond, then thought better.  _We should try to prolong this truce.  Asking if he’s trying to get rid of me won’t accomplish that, nor will Anora thank me for the sarcasm._

Princess Elin’s father and grandfather visited a while longer, until Healer Nyla and Teyrn Eleanor came in to chase them away.  Nyla took the swaddled infant to her cradle next to the bed.  

“She’ll sleep for a few hours.  You should sleep too, Your Majesty.  She’ll be hungry when she wakes.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

All Ferelden celebrated the birth of a Theirin heir.  Bells rang and messengers rode, spreading the news far and wide.  Every city, town and village lit bonfires in her honor.  Even the subversives, who favored reunion with Orlais, rejoiced at the birth of a girl.  In their minds, a betrothal between a Theirin princess and an Orlesian prince or duc would bring the two countries closer together.  It would take longer, but a strong Orlesian husband could return Ferelden to Orlais by influencing his Theirin Queen.  It would be the peaceful solution the Empress desired, albeit not a quick one. 

Empress Celene would not make the mistake of declaring war and installing an Orlesian king.  The conquest this time would be peaceful, preferably through marriages.  If the Empress could not marry Cailan, then one of her relatives would marry his daughter.  To ensure Orlais had multiple claims to the Ferelden throne, another would marry the King’s bastard half-brother Alistair.  Safely held in the Chantry, his templar vows postponed, the bastard prince could be brought to Orlais at the right time. 

In addition, Orlais would pursue a policy of marrying its nobility to Ferelden’s.  Orlais would have a selection of Fereldan heirs to place on the throne and in the Keeps of noble houses.  A supportive nobility and Bannorn would encourage reunion between Orlais and its former province.

Arl Eamon felt disquiet, however.  He sat in his study in Denerim speaking with Sister Eleutheria and Isolde.  

“There’s a better chance a daughter can be married to Empress Celene’s candidate, but I fear Anora will try to block it, as will her father.”

“Perhaps she will accept Empress Celene’s kind offer to foster the young princess in Val Royeaux for a few years.  She could attend University classes.  It’s said the Queen’s interested in establishing a University here.  Even Anora might realize such international experience would be beneficial.  Young girls fall in love all the time.”  Isolde smiled at Eamon.  “As I did.”

“Cailan opposes any early betrothal, perhaps regretting his own.”  Eamon said.  “Teagan has no trouble enticing Cailan away from the Queen’s bed.  Eleutheria, you must make clear to your master how much Fereldan’s hate Orlais and Orlesians.  It will be a generation or more before the memories no longer influence them, I fear.”

“Pah.  Their horror stories exaggerate the Occupation.”

“Possibly.  Isolde’s father seemed to treat the people of Redcliffe with a firm, if sometimes harsh, hand, but during a Rebellion that may be necessary.  One must root out the rebels afterall.  Sieur Malvoix treated with me honestly after conceding defeat.”  Eamon smiled at his wife.  “I wasn’t here during the Rebellion itself, but it was war.  The important point is the people believe the stories, whether they lived through that time or not.”  

“You should have convinced Cailan to set her aside.”  Isolde replied.

“Isolde, even Empress Celene couldn’t convince him.  You think I am more persuasive?”

“Perhaps she can still be removed.  It’s just become more complicated with Princess Elin’s birth.”  Eleutheria suggested.

“It must happen with no suspicion thrown on me, Isolde or Orlais.  That will prove almost impossible.”

“We still have our infiltrator.  She may be of use.”

“No harm must come to the Princess.  Is that clear?”

“Of course.  It is not the Empress’ wish to harm the baby.”  

The Empress loved The Game and all its intricacies.  There were plans within plans, alternative plans and backup plans.  Even her adversaries’ plans could sometimes serve her purposes.  If they did not, they would be quashed.  Celene might be young, but she had mastered The Game within Orlais.  Unfortunately, Fereldans did not play by the same rules.  Cailan flirted, liaised and promised with a smile, but he kept his Queen and now had a Crown Princess.  

Empress Celene wanted an heir who was an acknowledged member of the Theirin family to bring Ferelden back into the Orlesian fold.  The lessons of the Occupation had taught her, if not others, in what high esteem the Fereldans held the Theirin heirs of Calenhad.  Alistair, the bastard prince, could serve a purpose, but, unacknowledged as he was,  using him or his heirs was not optimal.  If she wanted to use Cailan, she would need to remove his Queen or persuade his daughter to the Orlesian viewpoint.

Cailan had refused to put Anora aside, even before she became pregnant.  Now, Eamon dare not even raise the topic.  Cailan respected and cared for his wife despite his frequent infidelities.  Even though Empress Celene did her best to entice him with Orlesian nobles, Cailan did not have a mistress.  He preferred variety, safety and minimal conversation in his dalliances.  While in Orlais, he did not worry about his brief noble liaisons.  Unless he could promise marriage, a noblewoman would not want a child, even a bastard Theirin.  That was not Empress Celene’s goal.  

In Ferelden, Cailan’s infidelities were all at the Pearl or other so-called respectable brothels.  While he was careless with his affections, he was careful about their consequences.  He did not want little Theirin by-blows running about.  He did not want any child to be put into a position like Alistair’s.  Sanga and the other proprietors ensured their female employees drank contraceptive tea each morning.  If he wanted lovemaking combined with intelligent conversation and the possibility of a child, he went to Anora.

**9:29 Dragon  Wintermarch  ===  Royal Palace, Denerim**

In the months following Crown Princess Elin’s birth, Cailan became a doting father and husband.  He breakfasted with Anora and Elin each morning and spent each evening with them.  He brought a rose for each of them each day from the potted bushes grown indoors by the palace gardeners.  He often remained while Anora fed Elin.  As they had in the first year of their marriage, they discussed their day.  For the first time in several years, Anora again had a sense of Cailan’s thoughts and plans.  To her relief, the road he traveled with Orlais was not Eamon’s, but a middle road keeping Orlais at bay by agreeing to trade.  This path benefitted both nations.  Eventually Orlais would lose patience, she reminded him.  When she did, he would grin and say, that’s why we have your father.  

Anora chose to breastfeed, much to the horror of some of the nobility.  Even Delilah found her choices odd and was surprised to find Pippa and Lys did not.  

“Mum breastfed Fergus and me.  Like Her Majesty, she had a wet nurse, so she could return to her duties, but she fed both of us morning and night for months.  Oriana, thought it odd too, but decided to try it.  She was happy she did.”

“My Mum did as well,” Pippa added.  “It must be a Highever practice.  Our midwives and Healers encourage it.  Then again, not all women can, for many reasons.  It’s good to have a wet nurse too.”

“I can’t imagine my mother feeding any of us,” Delilah muttered.  “Or father allowing it.”

“I can’t imagine not doing it,” Anora said from behind them.  “I’m grateful that I can.”  She had Elin in her arms.  Nurse Freya followed.  She had accompanied the Couslands as well, promising to help train the Queen’s young nurse.  “The feeling between us is indescribable, but I highly recommend it.  I’m going to put her in her cradle now.  Then I’ll dress and attend the Privy Council.”

Delilah had blushed when she realized Anora must have heard her comments.  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Delilah answered.  “Erlina has a bath ready for you.”

Anora went through her solar to the nursery and laid Elin gently in her cradle.  She was fed, clean and swaddled.  Freya would watch her for the rest of the day with the wet nurse Elspeth.  

Elspeth had arrived from Gwaren shortly before Anora gave birth.  Anora had requested that her mother’s family find a wet nurse in Gwaren.  Elspeth, a distant cousin, had joined the royal household just before Satinalia.  She traveled to Denerim with her own eighteen-month-old daughter and husband.  Eadwyn, a journeyman smith, had joined the Palace Smithy.  Eventually, with Freya’s help, Elspeth would become the Royal Nurse, but for now, she served as wet nurse under Freya’s tutelage.  Her daughter, Eadwyna often stayed with her mother in the nursery.  Anora surprised everyone by enjoying the toddler’s chatter and antics.  Anora, Eadwyna and Lys could be found many mornings reading or playing games, while Elin slept.

Anora would remain secluded until after the Wintersend fest day.  She began to attend Privy Council Sessions after First Day, but left Cailan to preside over the Courts in Haring and Wintermarch.  Her first public appearance would be at the Guardian Landsmeet.  During this time, Pippa and Delilah could easily meet her needs, without recalling Habren.  Lys would return to take on her duties officially in Cloudreach.

Lys and Kai left Denerim shortly after First Day celebrations with Teyrna Eleanor and Healer Nyla.  Lys and Kai had divided their time between the Palace and House Haris, but it was time for their annual visit to the Rasiae and Highever.  Teyrna Eleanor had been gone from Highever for almost two months.  She was ready to return home.  Nurse Freya remained at the Palace.  She would stay with Anora and Elin for at least six months.  Everyone dreamed of a stable future for Ferelden and its Royal House.

**9:28 Dragon Haring  ===  Denerim**

As he had promised Cailan, Warden-Commander Duncan visited the Denerim Monastery Armory in Haring.  He knew Arms Master Quenton.  He had visited before, so no one took particular notice.  Of course, he knew very well who Alistair was.  He had kept his eye on him over the years, occasionally visiting Redcliffe and watching the boy from a distance.  Once Loghain had taken Alistair under his wing, Duncan had felt no need to visit Dragon’s Peak, as he had visited Redcliffe.  Observing Alistair inside the monastery would be more difficult.  He had seen him spar at Kinloch Hold and been pleased at his skill.  The stories he had heard since, of Alistair’s  misbehavior and punishment, had been less encouraging.  

Fiona had been furious when he wrote to tell her that Alistair had been sent to the Chantry school at Dragon’s Peak, but he had been able to assure her it was just for education and training.  Eventually, he wrote, he had been told Alistair would marry and hold a small bann.  Until Cailan spoke with him at Ostagar, he had not realized that was no longer the plan.  Fiona would be furious with Cailan’s plan, but Cailan had a point.  If the boy would never be provided with lands and a wife becoming a wardens would be preferable to the Templars, particularly in his mother’s eyes.  If Cailan was correct, the boy would prefer it too.

As soon as Duncan mentioned recruiting initiates, Quenton silenced him.  “Perhaps we should meet at the Chanter’s Retreat for an ale, Duncan.  It’s been some time since we shared a mug.”

“Tonight?”

“After Vespers.”

The Chanter’s Retreat stood outside the Denerim walls near the Monastery.  It’s clientele included templars, brothers and others who worked in the Chantry.  The noise level was high.  Most were there to get drunk and no one paid attention to the conversations of other patrons.  On arriving, the two men took a corner table as an added precaution.

“I have some questions about one of your initiates.”

“Oh, aye?  And which one would that be Duncan?”

“Alistair.”

“Ah.  I was afraid you meant Alistair.  He’s a rather special case.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Well, in all honesty, I don’t know his talents.  I’ve only seen him training pages and first year initiates.  I was told by others, who do know his skills that he’s very good, but he’s not been training for months.”

“So I’ve been told.  I’m also told he’s a trouble maker.  Serving in your armory is a punishment.  Have you had problems?”

“None.  I’ve not seen the attitude or pranks he’s said to have exhibited at Dragon’s Peak.  Why would you be interested in such a lad?”

“I saw him at Kinloch Hold almost two years ago.  The templars he traveled with said he and another initiate had favored the apostates they were supposed to guard, but no one took any action at that time.  He did have a smart mouth and fascination with magic.  I saw him spar.  That piqued my interest.  He was good then.  Those skills come back with training.  ”

“Who did he spar there?”

“A templar called Ser Cullen.  A knight.”

“And he did  well?”

“He won.”

“At seventeen against a full templar?”  Quenton took a long draft of his ale.  “Well then, he must be as good as I think he is.  And I’ve seen no evidence of a smart mouth or a lack of discipline.  How do you propose to recruit him?”

“I hope to set up a Tourney.  I’ll reserve the right to recruit the winner and perhaps two or three other promising initiates.  I can’t recruit anyone who has taken vows.  Even early on, the lyrium addiction is too difficult to deal with.”

“Right.  I’ve heard your initiation is difficult and dangerous.  The lyrium withdrawal must make it more so.”

“It does.  It weakens the recruits.  The Chantry won’t provide the lyrium ration once the templar leaves the order.  While Wardens can get lyrium, the supply is not dependable.  It’s a clever means to prevent recruitment and conscription and it’s why we recruit so few templars.”

“So you want me to work with you to set up a Tourney.  We’ll need Knight-Captain Cynan’s agreement.  Once we have that, he’ll get the Grand Cleric’s approval.”

“When would be a good time?”

“Late Justinian perhaps?  You don’t want to be too near Summerday or Funalis.  The Chantry takes those holidays seriously.  You should set up a meeting with Cynan, but don’t mention Alistair until you have the Grand Cleric’s approval.  If they think you’re after the boy, they’ll refuse you.”

“Good to know.  I’ll be careful.”

“You should also know he won’t be the winner.  He won’t have the stamina to go against the best initiates.  So you should be sure you can recruit someone other than the winner when you set it up with Cynan.”

“Is there no way he can train?”

Quenton narrowed his eyes as he studied the Warden-Commander.  “Not where he can be seen, but perhaps there are less visible places…I’ll see what I can do.”

Duncan nodded.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“To what do I owe the honor Warden-Commander?”  Knight-Captain Cynan sat behind his desk.

“As you may know, the darkspawn activity in the Wilds south of Lothering, near the old fortress at Ostagar, has increased over the past year.  I’m recruiting, I’m afraid.  Most of the nobles and some of the banns arranged tournaments for me to see the skills of likely candidates.  I hoped you would do the same with your initiates.”

“Only initiates?”

“Yes.  Full templars, while their talents would be invaluable, tend to have problems with lyrium withdrawal.  We don’t have access to a steady supply.”  _That and they are more likely to die in the Joining, but I won’t divulge that secret to you._

“I see.  Yes, that would present difficulties.  So, initiates only.  I would want to limit how many you can select.”

“Of course, that’s only reasonable.  I thought, the winner and perhaps three more promising fighters.”

“The winner and one more.”

“Perhaps two more, Knight-Captain Cynan.  The Ferelden Chantry has never provided recruits in the twenty years since we returned to Ferelden.  The Orlesian Chantry provides at least one recruit each year.”

“I’ll propose the winner and two more to the Grand Cleric and to Knight-Commander Greagoir.  I can’t commit now.” 

“That’s fair.  Now when would be a good time?  I thought perhaps late in Justinian?”

“That would be acceptable.  A quiet time for the Chantry.  I’ll need to present the plan to the Grand Cleric and Knight-Commander Greagoir, of course, but that should be only a formality.”

“One other thing, Knight-Commander.  Often, we get volunteers after a Tourney, if it’s held in public.  We don’t solicit recruits, mind you, but a few often come up to me or to the Compound after viewing the competition.”

“Our practice yards are large, Warden-Commander, but not open to public viewing.”  Knight-Captain Cynan sat back in his chair.  “I see your point.  I suppose we could ask Arl Urien if the Denerim Tourney grounds could be used.  I’ll see what Her Grace thinks and let you know.”

“Thank you Knight-Captain Cynan.  I appreciate your cooperation in this.  Ferelden’s numbers are low.  I hope to increase them significantly this year.”

Both Knight-Commander Greagoir and Grand Cleric Elemena agreed to the Warden-Commander’s request.  It aligned with directives from the Divine and Knight-Vigilant, which encouraged cooperation with the Wardens in both Orlais and Ferelden.  It seemed everyone wanted the darkspawn activity contained in the Wilds.  Knight-Captain Cynan contacted Duncan to inform him the Tourney would occur on 26 Justinian in the year 9:29 Dragon at the Denerim Tourney Grounds.  Arl Urien would sponsor a fair before the Tourney.  The Grand Cleric would invite the nobility and banns, as well as King Cailan and Queen Anora.  It would be the major event of the season between Summerday and Funalis.  

Knight-Captain Cynan announced the Tourney to the senior Templar Initiates at the beginning of Drakonis.  They would have almost four months to train for the event.  He wished them luck and noted that Warden-Commander Duncan and some of his Senior Wardens would observe their training as they prepared.  The initiates all agreed the Tourney was a fine idea.         

**9:29 Dragon Drakonis  ===  Denerim Monastery**

In Firstfall, after three months at the Denerim Monastery, Alistair’s obedience won him his first reward.  Knight-Captain Cynan removed his escort.  His movements were still restricted to the Armory and chapel, but he traveled the hallways alone and in silence.  He continued to be given his meals in his room.  Conversation remained forbidden beyond that necessary to perform his duties.  What he missed most was access to the library.  He had nothing to read except a copy of the Chant of Light.  He was issued a cheap tallow candle each week.  While it lasted, he read the Chant before bed each evening.  It helped him fall asleep.

Alistair slept facing the outside wall so he could look up at the window.  Seeing a square of blue sky, clouds drifting past, the occasional bird or a scattering of stars reminded him that there was a wider world.  Oddly, knowing that was comforting.  Most mornings he got up at first light, sometimes earlier.  Accustomed to daily vigorous exercise, the lack of it resulted in difficulty sleeping.  He could feel his muscles soften and his skills atrophy.  

Toward the end of Haring, when everyone was distracted by the upcoming First Day celebrations, Alistair began getting up before Prime and going to the armory.  He always had a pile of arms and armor to sharpen or clean.  Instead of going right to work, he went through his forms.  He never used a practice sword or shield; he just performed the moves.  If the door opened, he would drop to the bench nearby and begin cleaning armor.  So far he had not been caught.  At least doing his forms kept his muscles trained, even if they were weaker than they had been in years.

“Initiate.”  

A person moved out of the shadows on the far side of the room.  He froze.  The door had not opened.  The Arms Master must have already been here watching for him.

“Arms Master.”

“You move well.  You learned at Dragon’s Peak?”

“Yes, Arms Master.”

“You’re not supposed to train.”

“No, Arms Master.  I won’t do it again.”

“Come with me.”

Alistair followed the Arms Master to a rear storeroom, where the Master lit a lantern.  From there a door opened onto a stairway to the basement of the Armory.  Most of the basement was storage, but  there were a few cells.  His heart beat harder as they descended.  _I shall endure._   _No matter what he does to me_.

They turned down a long hallway with several doors.  The Arms Master opened the second door on the left and lit a lamp, which hung on the wall.  Alistair followed him into an empty room.

“This should be large enough for practice.  Use the practice swords and shields piled over there.  They’re blunted steel, not wood, so they’re heavier.  And beat on that practice dummy.”

Alistair peered into the shadows and, indeed, there were a few swords and metal shields scattered on the dusty floor next to a pail of water and some cloths.  A broom leaned against one wall.  A practice dummy hung near the corner.

“Keep to the early hours.  Close the door.  No one will hear you down here.  If anyone does come, say I assigned you to clean the room.  The will explain the sweat and any noise.  Oh, and that chest there,” he pointed to a weathered chest next to the door, “that has your writing materials and such from you pack.  You draw those pictures?”

“Yes, Arms Master.”  _Why would he do this?_

“You’re good.  Look just like real people.  Just don’t draw anybody from here.”

“Yes, Arms Master.  Thank you, Arms Master, I appreciate your kindness, but…I can’t.  If you found me, others might too.  I don’t care about myself, but it will drag you into my punishments.  I can’t do that.  I’ve caused too many to suffer already.”

“This is my armory, boy.  Of course, I found out, but no one else will.  All the armor we use is upstairs.  These old rooms have been abandoned for years, but I do like to keep them clean.  Just in case we need them.”  He nodded toward the broom and bucket.  “The only living things down here are the rats and the spiders.  Do I need to order you, Initiate?”

“Maker, no.  That would be worse.”

“Then do as I say.  Call it a favor for Arms Master Robert, who’s an old friend.”

Alistair stared in surprise.  Robert was the Arms Master in Redcliffe.

“Aye, we Arms Masters keep in touch.  I’ve heard about your skill from Aengus, at Dragon’s Peak.”  He noted the look of relief that flashed across Alistair’s face.  “He’s fine, boy.  Puzzled by all the changes, but keeping his head down and doing his duty.  You’ve no need to worry.  He told me you spent time with Robert.  Robert and I spoke when he came to town with Arl Guerrin’s household.  He seems to think your treatment might be unjust.  I only know you do as I bid, you know your way around arms and armor, you treat the youngsters well and you’re a good instructor.  Seeing you do your forms just confirms what I already know.  You have or had excellent skills.  Forms training with weighted practice gear won’t rebuild your strength and skills completely, but it will help.  Spend the time until Prime down here or come in after Compline.” 

“People who help me get hurt, Arms Master.  You should know that.”

“I’ll risk it boy.  As far as I can see you’ve done nought to warrant punishment.”  He held up his hands.  “I know, you’re said to be a  mage lover, whatever that means.  If you helped apostates escape, you should be in the dungeons;  if not, you did nothing wrong and should be in the dormitory.  Did you help apostates escape boy?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so.  Nor did Aengus.  So this…I don’t even know what to call it…shunning?  I’ve never seen it’s like.  You take it better than most men would.  Do your forms boy.  Beat that old practice dummy there.  You’ll need those skills again someday I’ll warrant.”  The Arms Master stood arms crossed.  “Well, go ahead.  Let me see you work.”

“Yes, Arms Master.”

_He won’t be as fit as his opponents, but at least he’ll have a chance.  He’ll make a good warden, if Duncan takes him._ _At least it will provide some hope for his future._

**9:29 Dragon Drakonis  ===  Amranthine House, Denerim**

“The Crown Princess grows bigger each day it seems.  She’s a lovely, healthy babe.  The King and Queen seem besotted.  It’s lovely to watch.”

Howe sniffed.  “She bore a healthy brat did she?”  

“So it seems, Father.”

“Rumors say she feeds it herself, although she attends every Council meeting and Court since the Landsmeet in Guardian.

“She feeds the Princess morning and night.  The wet nurse cares for Princess Elin during the day.”

“Disgusting practice for a Queen.”  Howe grimaced as he sipped his tea.  “And it seems the Couslands returned to favor.”

“Only Melysande and Teyrna Eleanor attended the Queen, Father.  Teyrn Bryce has not returned to Court.  The Queen has known Teyrna Eleanor since she was a child.  I think her presence was a comfort, since her own mother is dead.”

“Delilah, you have always been too soft.  Always thinking the best of everyone.  Eleanor Cousland is as much a political player as her husband.  She will get her foot in the palace and Bryce will soon follow.  Fergus is already there, befriending the King again.  And the girl, running all over Thedas, but still returning to cause problems.  The rumor is that Bryce will accompany King Cailan to Orlais in Bloomingtide.”

“I have not heard, Father, but I will let you know if I learn the rumor is true.  You should also know, Father, that Melysande will become a Lady to the Queen in Cloudreach when Habren leaves.”

Rendon stared at her.  “That is information of note,” he said softly.

Delilah shivered at his tone.  She realized she truly did fear her father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you. I hope you continue to read and enjoy. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome comments, encouragement, suggestions and critiques. 
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eyes. Her astute comments improve every post. Any errors are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. Special thanks to those who Reviewed: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, KatDancer2 and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. Knowing others enjoy the story inspires me.


	52. Diplomacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:29 Dragon Bloomingtide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

  *  “Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
 Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe




**Chapter 52** **– DIPLOMACY**  

* * *

**9:29 Dragon  Bloomingtide  ===  Royal Palace, Denerim**

“Will you hate it here?”  Lys frowned slightly as she watched Kai unpacking their belongings.  Their large, bright rooms, near the Queen’s apartment, provided bedrooms on either side of a spacious common room.  They shared a garderobe with the adjoining apartment.  This part of the palace connected to ancient sewers maintained since Tevinter times.  Servants opened a cistern on the roof to flush them out daily.  Castle Cousland had a similar system.  _Water to flush out garderobes must be one of the benefits of living in a wet climate._

Lys turned to look out the open window.  Unlike the smaller apartments on the opposite side of the hall, these rooms overlooked the garden.  Bloomingtide had lived up to its name this year.  Flowers blossomed and fruit ripened on trees in every corner of the carefully planned royal garden.  Lys sniffed and leaned out.  A vine crept up the wall just beneath her second floor window.  _It must be jasmine.  I_ _’_ _m surprised it grows so far south._   She leaned out and reached down to pluck a flower, but the blooms remained just out of reach.     

Kai watched Lys covertly.  _Maker she_ _’_ _s restless._ Kai placed Lys’ new gowns in the chest by the bed.  _If she thinks I hate it here, she_ _’_ _ll try to fix it, and Maker knows how that will end.  Besides, it_ _’_ _s not been awful so far.  Vaughan Kendalls isn_ _’_ _t even in Denerim now that the wedding is over.  Neither is Thomas Howe.  When I_ _’_ _m out, I_ _’_ _ll wear Cousland livery quartered with a royal crest.  No one will bother me.  I can see my family.  I might enjoy this._

 _“_ No, My Lady, I won’t hate it at all.  I have bad memories of Denerim, but now I can replace them with good ones.  I’ll enjoy being close to my family again.”

“Good, because I would miss you.”  Lys looked relieved, but worried.  “You don’t have to stay.  Cousin Samuel will give you work at House Haris in Highever or Cumberland; or you can join the Wrath.”

“I want to stay with you, My Lady.”

“Those _My Ladys_ are for practice, right?”

Kai turned away from Lys to hide her grin.  “Practice?”

“Dammit Kai.”

Kai turned back still grinning.  “No, the _My Lady_ is _not_ practice.  I’ll call you _My Lady_ whenever we are in the Palace.  I won’t be overly familiar in front of the palace staff.”

Lys rolled her eyes.  “Fine.  I do hate that, you know.  I’ve gotten used to you being my friend.”  A flicker of doubt showed in the slight frown, which Lys smoothed out immediately.  “We are friends, right?”

“We are…My Lady.  As your friend, I suggest you help me or go spar.  You’re restlessness makes me nervous.”

Lys gave a huff of exasperation.  Sherpa butted her leg.  “What!  I shouldn’t be exasperated with her?”  Sherpa sat and stared.  “I swear Kai, she favors you over me.”  Lys stuck her tongue out at Sherpa, but went over to the bed and began to place tunics and leggings into the clothes chest.

“I think, _My Lady_ , that you need to spar.  Perhaps, _My Lady_ , we should find the practice yard.”

“I think, _My...Friend_ , you’re right.”

Kai put down the tunic she had been folding and walked over to Lys and hugged her.  After a brief hesitation, Lys hugged back. 

“I thought for a moment you were going to hit me.”

“No.”  Kai stepped back.  “At least not here, My Lady.”

“I’m adjusting…perhaps too slowly.  I didn’t expect this, you know.  I’ve never been presented at Court.  Queen Anora says I should ignore that.  Being her Lady equates with being accepted at Court even without the ceremony.  I’m just apprehensive.”  Lys put the last of her tunics into the chest.  She closed it and sat on the seat formed by the lid.  “I’m out of practice at being a Lady.  I liked the free life that being Layne Haris the merchant gave me.”

Lys stood and walked over to the armor stand.

“I think you’re right.  I need to relax.  We should spar.”  She opened the arms chest and took out her arming clothes.  “Leave the rest of the clothes.  They’ll be here later.  Queen Anora doesn’t need me until morning.”  Lys grinned.  “See, I remembered to say Queen Anora.  Maker I know I’ll mis-speak and call her Anora.  Pippa’s already lecturing me about how to behave and I haven’t done anything wrong yet.  Of course she is head Lady now that Habren’s gone.”  She rolled her eyes at the thought of obeying Habren.  “I don’t know how Pippa did it.  I can’t imagine taking orders from Habren.  Kai, put on your leathers.  Let’s explore.”  Lys smirked.  “As my Lady’s Maid, _you_ have to obey.  No arguments.”

“That will never happen.  I will always let you know when I disagree.  Respectfully, of course, _My Lady_.”  Kai ducked as a satin slipper flew past her shoulder.

“Let’s go.  I do need to hit something.  Sherpa you come too.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Kai, Sherpa and Lys made their way to the ground floor and found a door opening into the garden.   

“You could ask a guard how to find the Armory from here.  We only passed a half dozen before we left the palace.”  Kai stood with arms crossed looking for a way out of the garden.

“Do they speak?”

Kai giggled.  “Now that you mention it, I don’t know.  I could ask a servant.”

“Well, let’s see if the garden has a gate.”  Lys looked back at the palace, which formed a wide ‘U’ surrounding the gardens.  The area enclosed by the palace had winding paths encircling plantings.  Some beds held flowers or flowering bushes in full summer bloom.  Other beds held taller evergreens or small trees, often with a bench or green space for sitting.  Ripe cherries hung from one tree.  Peaches, apples and pears ripened on others.  Close to the wall, where the sun warmed the brick and stone, Lys saw an apricot tree. 

“I wonder if they grow oranges and lemons as well?  I haven’t had one since Antiva City.  Mum always says she will try to grow them, but she never has.”

The late morning sun glinted off several small ponds scattered among the plantings.  The gardens spilled beyond the ends of the palace towards the high rear wall.  It marked the western boundary of the palace grounds.  Guard posts and a wall walk crowned that wall.  As if to pacify its martial purpose, roses covered the brick.  Lys surveyed the wider expanse.  “Those look like the kitchen gardens to the south, beyond that low wall.  We need to go north to find the armory.”

When they reached the north side of the gardens, they followed a lower wall that reached just above their heads. 

“The armory and stable range must be on the other side of this wall.”  Lys looked for a gate.  Towards the wall’s end they found one flanked by two guards.

“Are you keeping us in?  Or can you let us pass through to the armory?”

One guardswoman frowned, ignored Lys’ question and asked one of her own.  “What are you doing inside the gardens?  These are restricted to Their Majesties and noble guests.”

“We came from our apartment in the North Wing of the Palace.  I’m Lady Melysande Cousland, one of Her Majesty’s Ladies-in-Waiting.”

"I know of no Lady-in-Waiting by that name.,” the Guard scoffed.  “Her Majesty and her ladies rarely dress in armor,” she added, clearly disapproving of Lys’ worn leathers.  “When they do, it’s fine leathers showing their family crest, not worn, scuffed, unmarked armor.  They practice archery.  They don’t wander the gardens carrying blades.”

“We’re trying to get to practice yard,” Lys explained, giving Kai a sidelong glance.  “To spar and my armor does-”

“-Her Majesty’s Ladies do not spar.”

“If you would let me finish, look at the crest on my armor and Kai’s.”  Lys pointed to the worn Cousland laurel wreath.

The other guard walked behind Kai and Lys.

“Uh oh.”  Kai whispered.  “This doesn’t look good, My Lady.”  Sherpa stepped forward next to Lys and growled quietly.

“My Lady, is it?  Should that convince me, elf?”  The guard looked at Sherpa.  “I suppose the hound is yours as well?”

“Mabari tend to stay with their chosen human.  Of course, she’s mine.”  Lys put a hand on Sherpa’s neck.  “Steady girl.  The guard is doing her job.” 

Sherpa settled, but remained tense.

“Wearing weapons in the Royal Gardens will add to your offense.”

“What offense?”

“Being in the gardens.  You must have scaled a wall to get here.  That hound, if yours, also counts as a weapon.  Come along.  You’ll get through the gate alright.  And go right to the cells until the Captain can decide what to do with you.” 

“Wait, what?  Why would we walk up to you and ask to leave, if we wanted to get into the Palace or harm someone?  And how does a hound scale a wall?”

The guardswoman glared.  “You probably already committed your crimes.  Thievery, most likely.  We’ll find what you took.”

“Thievery.  Look at my weapons and my leathers.  See the crest?  Look, this is my personal Cousland signet.”  Lys held out her hand.  

“No Couslands are here today.  You probably stole that.  The ring will be evidence.”

“Of what?  You just said there are no Couslands here.  From whom could it be stolen?”  Lys argued.

The guard frowned, confused by the Lys’ arguments.

Lys continued.  “My mother, the Teyrna of Highever, and I attended Queen Anora when Crown Princess Elin was born.”

“Well, I don’t know anything about that, but the Crown Princess was born months ago.”  She grabbed Lys’ arm and Kai’s with the other guard grabbed Kai.  Sherpa growled.

“Is there a problem, guardswoman?”

“Your Grace.”  The guardswoman bowed awkwardly to Teyrn Loghain.  Hap stood next to his master.  “I found these two wandering the gardens.  I don’t know how they got in, but I’m detaining them now.”

Loghain’s mouth quirked up at one corner.  “They do look like the dangerous sort.”

“Teyrn Loghain!”  Lys objected, as Hap greeted his sister with pleased whuffs.

“Quiet.  Don’t address your betters.”  The Guards shouted shaking their prisoners.

Sherpa and Hap both growled to the discomfiture of the two guards. 

“I’ll take them guardswoman.”  Loghain said quickly.  “And…uh…you should remember Lady Cousland’s face because she is, indeed, a Cousland and one of my daughter’s Ladies.  She does, indeed, spar and her ring is, indeed, a Cousland signet.  Her mabari is sister to mine.”

“I…Your Ladyship.”  The guardswomen flushed and released Lys and Kai.

Lys waved her hand.  “You’re just doing your job, guardswomen.  Although I do suggest you _look_ at a signet when it’s presented to you.  Particularly as it matches the crest on my leathers, worn tho’ they may be, and those on my blades.”  Lys scratched Sherpa’s head and then petted Hap.  “Not provoking mabari might be a good idea, too.

The guardswomen, still flushed, stepped back to their posts and nodded.  “I’ll do that, My Lady,” one said.

Lys looked at the Teyrn.  He looked tired.  He wore old leathers as well and carried a battered sword and shield.  “Since you’re wearing practice armor and carrying your practice weapons, perhaps you will spar with us, Teyrn Loghain?”

“I was just heading that way myself, lucky for you.  So yes, I will.”

Lys grinned.  “Good.  We’ve been practicing against sword and shield fighters lately.”

“So you expect me to fight both of you?”

“Not together!  Only one of us.  Perhaps you could also watch us spar and critique us.  You’ve always given me good advice.”

“That’s a long workout.”

“It’s what we’re used to several times a week.”

“I’m impressed.  I didn’t realize you’d gotten so serious about training.”

“After Antiva City?  I,” she glanced at Kai, “ _we_ , got very serious.”

The three entered the armory where Loghain introduced Lys and Kai to the Arms Master.  “They’ll be using the Practice Yard when they get time away from their duties.  As you’ll soon see, they’re both good fighters.”

The Arms Master saluted the two young women.  “Feel free to use the practice weapons and the women’s bath house.”

“Thank you, Arms Master.  We appreciate that.”  Lys replied.

Loghain led the way to the yard, where only one guard challenged a practice dummy.  “Are you ready, ladies?  Perhaps I’ll watch you first.”

“No, that will let you see all our moves.”  Lys objected.  “I’ll go first with you.”

“I was afraid that wouldn’t work.”  Loghain chuckled.  He had missed Lys.  As a Teyrn’s daughter she could spar with him verbally and with weapons.  With Lys, there were no political overtones to their conversations as there were lately with Anora and Cailan.  Lys hated Orlesians as much as he did.  Having her at the Palace would brighten his days.

Loghain hefted his shield and unsheathed his sword.  Lys unsheathed her blades. 

“You use a sword now?”  Loghain raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“I do.  I like the better reach against a sword and shield.  I still have the long dagger in my off hand to stab.  Kai still uses her daggers, but I prefer this.”

“Well, let’s see how you perform.” 

He feinted to his right with his sword, then moved to bash her with his shield.  Lys stepped back and to her right, blocking the shield with her left arm.  Since she had stepped away from him, the shield bash had less power.  Lys moved further to her right and forward at the same time, slicing at Loghain behind his shield before he could retract it.  She scored a hit on his upper arm.

“Nicely done.”  He complimented, as he turned to face her and block any further moves.  He noticed she handled the heavy sword with ease.  Nor was she distracted by his comment.  Before he had fully faced her she slid to her left, feinted a sword stroke and stepped forward again to thrust her dagger at his right wrist.  Another hit scored.

In a real battle he would now be bleeding from two cuts.  As the battle proceeded he would lose blood, tire more quickly and handle sword and shield less nimbly due to the wounds.  Her tactics were impeccable.  Someone had been teaching her well.  He would have to take this more seriously.

Lys saw the surprise when she touched his wrist.  _Good, he realizes I_ _’_ _m not the little girl he sparred with for fun.  When I beat him, I want him to have given his best._

Loghain stepped back.  Lys did not follow.  _Let him regroup.  I_ _’_ _ll let him make the next move._ The match soon slipped into the familiar rhythm.  Attack, block, parry, step away, block, attack, sidestep, attack …step to the left, roll to the right, retreat, push forward.  Lys was quicker and more agile.  She squatted and rolled, sometimes forward sometimes to the side, then bounced up again before Loghain could fully turn towards her.  She often scored a touch on his calf, ankle or thigh with these moves.  Or a thrust under his shield when she feinted, then did not roll.  The problem was that her attacks only wore him down, she couldn’t deliver a critical blow. 

Until she did.  She squatted, rolled forward, as she had before, but this time extended a leg and tripped him.  He went down hard.  Before he could recover she had her dagger at his throat, her knee on his shield and her sword pinning his sword arm down.  He could push against her with his shield, although the angel would be awkward, but not before she slit his throat or made his sword arm useless.

“Yield.”

Lys stood and held out a hand after he yielded.  Loghain took it.  “Good match.  You’ve improved.  I like the tactics.”

“Thank you.  The Wrath has good trainers.  In truth, I don’t win very often, but sometimes that leg sweep works.  Probably won’t work on you again.  Good thing, in battle, you only fight your opponent once.”

Loghain chuckled.  “Very true.  Why don’t you and Kai fight now.  I’ll spar with Kai next time.  I’m an old man.  I tire easily.”

Lys frowned.  “You’re not old, but you do look tired.  Have you been out drinking with Cailan and Teagan?”

“No.  I’m not one of Cailan’s drinking companions.  I just haven’t been sleeping well.”

Lys frown relaxed.  “Why?”

“Nothing obvious, just age I suppose.  Too little to worry about.”

“Too little?  That should be a good thing.  No Orlesian plots?”

“There are _always_ Orlesian plots.  And darkspawn in the south or so Warden Duncan says.  Just no imminent threats.”

Lys nodded.  “Fergus said the darkspawn seem contained in the Wilds, if not defeated.”

“So I understand.  The Wardens maintain a presence at Ostagar.  Warden Duncan keeps the king and I informed.”  Loghain pursed his lips and refrained from rolling his eyes.  “He suddenly feels a need to recruit.  He convinced Cailan to encourage the Bannorn and nobles to hold tourneys.  The winner gets to join the Wardens.”  Loghain shook his head.  “As if that’s a prize, but it’s Fereldans, not Orlesians joining so I suppose that’s an improvement.”

“Papa  may hold one in Highever.  He hasn’t decided.  Joining the Wardens…it’s not a prize.”  To change the subject, she looked at Kai.  “Ready?”

Kai nodded, as Loghain took a seat on a bench to watch.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Kai and Lys moved beautifully together.  It looked more like a dance than a sparring match.  One of them proceeded through a series of offensive forms and the other had to react and defend.  The attacker varied the sequence so the defender could not predict the next move.  They alternated between offensive and defensive roles.  It provided excellent practice.  The rhythm calmed Loghain as he watched.

Loghain let his mind drift to his ride home from Ostagar with Cailan all those months ago.  He had gone over their conversation a thousand times, trying to see how he might repair his relationship with the King.  It had improved since Elin’s birth, but the strain remained.  Differences surfaced regularly over Cailan’s fascination with the Wardens, the possible Blight and Orlais’ influence over them.  He remained unhappy with Cailan’s Orlesian trade alliances and planned trip to Val Royeaux.  Sometimes his anger at Cailan threatened to overwhelm him.  When that happened, he tried to get away.  He had visited Gwaren once already this year.  It seemed to settle his mind. 

While he welcomed Cailan’s overtures to Teyrn Cousland, he was not happy with Cailan’s insistence Bryce join him on the Orlesian venture.  He rubbed his temples.  It seemed the headache always lurked ready to bloom.  _Did Cailan have to insist or did Bryce volunteer?  Howe says Bryce did not resist Cailan_ _’_ _s request.  That he seemed enthusiastic._   _Does he want to return to Court so much he would encourage Cailan_ _’_ _s enchantment with Orlais?  Fergus certainly does not, but perhaps he and Bryce differ on this._    

Loghain started as Lys said his name. 

“You were a million miles away, Teyrn Loghain.”

“I was.  Sorry.  I’ve had something on my mind and I’m afraid I mulled it over as I watched you.  What I saw was beautiful though.”

“Beautiful?”  Kai asked.

“Yes, the smoothness and rhythm of your motions and the quick reactions.  Excellent practice method.  You had quite the audience.”  He nodded towards the Armory door and the fence separating the practice yard from the archery butts.

The young women had not noticed the audience of guards.  The group applauded when they realized Lys had seen them.

She and Kai bowed and saluted the guards and Maric’s Shield troopers, then turned to Teyrn Loghain.  “Thank you, Teyrn Loghain, for the match.  Are you coming back to the Palace?  I think we’ve had enough for one day.”

 _That_ _’_ _s gracefully done._   “Need a guide back to your rooms?”

Lys wrinkled her nose and grinned.  “Probably wouldn’t hurt.  Is the garden the quickest route?”

“It is, actually.  Otherwise you tromp through the public rooms.  Not popular with the Seneschal or Anora.”

“Not a good idea on my first day here, then.  Well lead on, Your Grace, and we will follow.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Pippa appeared at Lys’ door just after sunrise.  To her surprise, Lys answered, already dressed. 

“Come in, Pippa.  Kai just finished my hair.”  Lys twirled, showing off her gown. 

She wore a mossy green linen tunic under a Cousland blue linen gown.  The gown’s three quarter sleeves trailed almost to the floor fitting loosely over the fitted sleeves of the green tunic.  Exquisitely embroidered green laurel branches marked the edge of the trailing sleeves.  Green, fuchsia and gold silk bands intertwined with each other hung around her hips, their ends falling to the floor over the slightly flared skirt. 

Kai had loosely braided the sides of Lys’ hair, starting at her temple and weaving in pieces until the two braids met just above her nape.  Tendrils framed her face.  The two braids ended leaving the rest of her hair to fall free down her back in soft waves.

“You look amazing.  Quite appropriate.  Kai has not lost her touch with your hair.”

Kai curtsied in thanks and greeting. 

“Good.  I didn’t want to overdress.  I thought silk might be too much on my first day.”

“For a normal day, yes, silk would be too…formal.  It’s not so warm here, in summer, that we have gotten used to wearing silk every day, as you must in Cumberland or farther north.”  Pippa looked around Lys’ room.  “You’ve settled in very quickly.  I’m surprised.  I expected you to be more…um disruptive.”

 ”Disruptive!  Was I disruptive in Firstfall?”

“Your mother was here.”

“I have learned diplomacy and discretion, Lady Philippa.  Cousin Sam does not tolerate…disruptors.  As for settling in, I’m used to traveling I suppose.  I’m organized and Kai is very efficient.”  _Thank the Maker Loghain rescued us the other day.  I suspect Pippa would consider being detained by the guard disruptive._

Kai who had retreated to the bedroom could be heard to laugh. 

 _She_ _’_ _s probably thinking the same thing._ Lys stifled a giggle.

“Myfa will be here shortly, Kai,” Pippa raised her voice slightly.  “She will introduce you to the other servants and take you on a tour.  Any questions, please ask her.”

Kai poked her head around the doorframe.  “Thank you, Lady Philippa.  I can’t wait to see her.”

Pippa smiled.  “Thank you for making sure Lys was ready.”

Kai smirked, but conceded, “Lys got me up, truth be told.  You might be surprised at how disciplined she’s become.  Sieur Samuel insists on punctuality.”

Pippa’s raised eyebrows conveyed her surprise, but all she said was, “Let’s go, Lys.  Delilah joined Her Majesty when she awakened at dawn to feed Princess Elin.  She’ll be finished soon and ready for her own breakfast.  We’ll eat with her as usual.  “

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Anora’s apartments, at the end of the hallway, spanned the width of the palace’s north wing.  The walk from Lys’ rooms passed two other apartments on the left, probably similar to hers.  She had not seen them, but she knew they belonged to Pippa and Delilah.

“With King Cailan gone and most of the nobles home for the summer, our days have been very quiet,” Pippa told Lys as they linked arms and walked together down the hallway.     

“It will give you time to adjust to our routine.  The summer is lovely so far.  We spend a lot of time in the garden.  Queen Anora and Princess Elin enjoy the time outdoors in the afternoon.”

“How do you spend each day?  How do you and Delilah share the duties?”

Pippa smiled.  “I wrote down a list of our duties.  She handed Lys a small leather bound book.  “I thought you might like a common book to record your impressions and thoughts.  You can find the description of our duties on the first page.”

Lys grinned.  Pippa had always been the more organized of the two when it came to making lists and recording what they learned.  Lys made notes on wax tablets with a stylus.  Once she had memorized what she would wipe the tablet clean.  Pippa had a shelf of small parchment books at home in Higheverport – notebooks or diaries Arethians would call them.  Pippa had them in Areth too.  Pippa liked the tactile feel of quill and paper.  In Thedas Lys preferred wax.  In Areth she dictated to tablet or phone.

“Trying to convert me to ink and parchment?”

Pippa smirked.  “Her Majesty uses parchment to record her thoughts and impressions.  I thought it might be prudent if you at least appeared to do the same.”

“Ah, well thank you.  You’re probably right, in that case.  I see I shall need all my diplomatic skills to survive here.”  She pulled a small wax tablet and stylus from her pocket.  ”I did think to bring this, so I shall be doubly prepared.”

Pippa grew more serious.  “You will need them Lys.  Without them the undercurrents here will drown you.”

The two young women entered the anteroom of the Queen’s apartment. 

“You wait here.  I’ll see if Queen Anora is ready to receive you.”  Noticing Lys raised eyebrows, Pippa added, “Nothing formal.  She simply wants to welcome you.  You and I can speak more later today.”

Lys sat in one of two wooden chairs, which flanked a narrow table.  Sconces on the wall above provided light to the windowless room.  She read Pippa’s neat, but cramped writing.

  1.  _Each Lady is assigned duties daily.  The senior Lady (Pippa) assigns the duties and ensures they are carried out._
  2. _Maintain perfect confidence in all matters.  No conversation or observation should leave Her Majesty_ _’_ _s chambers._
  3. _Attend the Queen when she rises to feed Princess Elin; Nurse Elspeth and the Queen will perform most tasks, but the assigned Lady must be present to help_
  4. _Breakfast with the Queen_
  5. _Review the Queen_ _’_ _s appointments with her and her ladies;  apportion duties for the day_
  6. _Supervise the selection of the Queen_ _’_ _s clothing – depends on what she will do that day_
  7. _Review correspondence with the Queen;  write responses_
  8. _Attend the Queen at Council, Court or other meetings, unless dismissed by Her Majesty._
  9. _Attend the Queen on outings – gardens, riding, visits to nobility, her father or House Haris unless dismissed by Her Majesty_
  10. _Attend the Queen at formal events – galas, tourneys, salons, so forth_
  11. _Make purchases for the Queen from the Royal purveyors – these would be more important purchases such as jewelry, clothing, gifts.  Queen Anora examines and approves all purchases of course.  If she dislikes an item, it is returned or exchanged._
  12. _Supervise arrangement of clothing design, fittings and purchases (you should shine here, Lys)_
  13. _Carry messages for the Queen – to other nobles, her father, merchants, others._
  14. _Provide amusement and companionship– singing, playing instruments, reading, handwork, dancing.  (we can sing again – did you bring the vihuela?)_
  15. _Other duties as assigned._



Lys laughed quietly to herself.  _The Fifteen Rules of Waiting_.  Pippa was thorough and concise and the head Lady. 

Lys sat quietly as random thoughts and reactions ran through her mind.  _I know Pippa and what to expect from her and she knows me.  Delilah will be a mystery, but Pippa seems to like her._   _I can perform all those duties.  I wonder if I_ _’_ _ll be bored.  I_ _’_ _m so used to meeting a variety of people and traveling.  The politics might be interesting, when I attend Council or Court.  Even so, I_ _’_ _ll have to make sure I have spinning or knitting and a book close to hand.  I have my lute and my vihuela for entertainment._ Lys giggled.  _I wonder if Anora will find the bawdy songs I_ _’_ _ve learned during my travels amusing?_  She sighed. _I_ _’_ _d best wait a while before I tempt fate with them._   She looked up as Pippa returned to the anteroom.

“Her Majesty awaits, Lady Melysande.”

 **9:29 Dragon  Bloomingtide  ===** **_Calenhad_ ** **_’_ ** **_s Ghost_ ** **on the Waking Sea sailing west**

King Cailan left on what had become his annual visit to Orlais immediately after Summerday in 9:29 Dragon.  _Next year Empress Celene must visit us in Denerim._   He had begun to feel like a supplicant, always visiting her in Val Royeaux.  Next year it would be Orlesians in Denerim or there would be no visit.  _I_ _’_ _ll send Loghain off to Gwaren for the duration.  If things go well with Teyrn Cousland, he_ _’_ _ll be there to help host the Empress and her entourage._

This year Cailan, Eamon and Teagan rode to Highever with the royal retinue.  The Ferelden fleet’s year old flagship, _Calenhad_ _’_ _s Ghost,_ had been sent ahead to sail around the Amaranthine peninsula and the islands of Brandels Reach and Alamar.  It would be waiting when the king arrived in Higheverport.  The ten-day ride to Castle Cousland took two weeks once King Cailan decided to visit Vigil’s Keep and Amaranthine on the way.  The visit allowed him to honor Arl Howe with a visit and see some of his subjects. 

Arl Howe traveled with the King’s company as far as his seat at Vigil’s Keep.  He hosted the King there and in Amaranthine.  While Howe managed to appear pleasant during the Royal visit, King Cailan’s new attitude toward Teyrn Cousland pleased him not at all.  Nor did he accept the king’s suggestion that Delilah might find a marriage in Orlais.  While his reply had not pleased Cailan, the King had shrugged and dropped the subject. 

In Highever, Arl Broughten and Teyrn Cousland planned to join King Cailan aboard his flagship.  After an overnight stay at Castle Cousland, the five nobles sailed from Higheverport under clear summer skies.

Designed as a ship that would accommodate both a captain and a king, the builders of _Calenhad_ _’_ _s Ghost_ built the tall stern castle with two sleeping quarters.  Both opened into a large common area.  Both cabins had wide shuttered stern windows.  Smaller cabins accommodated additional passengers.  The Teyrn, the Arls and Bann Teagan occupied these.  Arl Eamon, in spite of his status as Chancellor, found himself relegated to a smaller cabin.  Teyrn Cousland, as the senior noble, occupied the larger one Chancellor Guerrin had occupied on last year’s maiden voyage.  Eamon thought his office trumped the Teyrn’s rank, but Cailan had disagreed.

As both Queen Anora and Teyrn Loghain had pointed out, Ferelden could hardly afford a ship as fine as _Calenhad_ _’_ _s Ghost._ Cailan had retorted that the outdated _Mabari Rampant_ was worn out, after its long voyage with Loghain.  If Ferelden’s coffers lacked funds, he had added, Loghain’s travels had helped create the problem.  Ferelden needed to impress its allies and adversaries alike.  Fergus offered to help him acquire it from Antiva.  Anora had conceded the cost, while substantial, was less than she expected.  Loghain, grudgingly acknowledging his contribution to Ferelden’s diminished funds, grumbled and then kept quiet.

Built in Antiva City’s _Arsenale_ shipyard, the _Calenhad_ represented the latest in naval architecture.  Teyrn Cousland helped the king gain Antiva’s agreement to build the _Calenhad_ in the _Arsenale_.  This cooperation marked the start of the thaw between Teyrn Cousland and Cailan.  Bryce and Fergus called in many favors with their Antivan friends and allies to get the ship built quickly and inexpensively  The Couslands and, Oriana’s family, the Falanni, had even managed to persuade the Antivan authorities to allow Fereldan shipbuilders to participate.  The result had impressed the Orlesians when the ship docked in the Val Royeaux the year before.  King Cailan appreciated the efforts of Fergus and his father.  After a stop in Higheverport on his return from Orlais in 9:28, relations between the King and Teyrn continued to improve.

To Eamon’s dismay, once at sea, Cailan closeted himself with Teyrn Cousland each morning.  Eamon had encouraged King Cailan to bring Teyrn Cousland along.  He hoped to quash the growing influence of the Teyrn and Fergus.  He did not want Bryce Cousland back in Denerim.  Arl Howe agreed.  Both wanted the Landsmeet to believe Bryce conspired with Orlais and influenced Cailan to give away too much to their old enemy. 

Eamon had not anticipated Cailan seeking the Teyrn’s company, while excluding him.  Eamon thought of Cailan as his apprentice, meant to do his bidding, ignoring the fact that Cailan was his king.  Bryce Cousland could be charming and persuasive.  On the one hand, he feared he might lose his control over the trip’s purpose.  On the other, perhaps Cousland’s actions would condemn him.  He hated not controlling the plans.  Even more, he hated not knowing what Cailan discussed with the Teyrn.    

Cailan had numerous proposals for the Teyrn Cousland.  He had tired of Eamon’s successful attempts to direct discussions with the Orlesians.  Sometimes he had felt like a mabari pup led around by its human.  He feared the Orlesians saw him that way.  This year he planned to take the initiative, make proposals and draw up several agreements with, he hoped, Teyrn Cousland’s assistance.  Eamon could follow his lead or remain aboard the _Calenhad_ and sulk.  Bryce Cousland had been his father’s primary diplomat.  Cailan hoped to restore him to that post.  He just had to convince the Teyrn to deal with Orlais.  He hoped it would not be as difficult as convincing Loghain and Anora.

King Cailan had big plans.  He hoped they would divert Her Radiance, Empress Celene of Orlais, from persistently suggesting he set Anora aside and marry her.  Until Princess Elin’s birth, the reason proposed was Anora’s barrenness.  With that excuse gone, he wanted to get his own proposals on the table.  Teyrn Bryce had seemed unsurprised by the Empress’ actions when Cailan described them, but those of the Guerrins appeared to unsettle him. 

“I want to change the discussion, Teyrn Bryce.  I will not set Anora aside.  Nor will I agree to an Orlesian betrothal for my daughter that Eamon suggests.”

The two men faced each other across the round table in Cailan’s quarters.

“That seems wise, Your Majesty.”  Bryce did not know the king well.  Both Fergus and Arl Philip had briefed him on Cailan’s seeming maturity now that he had an heir, but warned the teyrn to tread carefully around both the king and the Guerrins.  While Bryce welcomed the chance to reclaim influence, he wished he had been able to speak with the queen and Teyrn Loghain as well.  He replied carefully and thoughtfully.  “Unlike your marriage to Queen Anora, early betrothals do not always benefit the families involved years later when the wedding takes place.  Even our mages cannot tell the future.”

“Exactly, My Lord Cousland.  I said the same to the Empress.  Who, in Orlais, would have considered betrothing her to me when we were babes?” 

Bryce smiled.  “Was she convinced?”

“Sadly, no, but it did cause her to pause and think.  She offered to foster Elin.”

“That’s a different tack.  How did you reply?”

Cailan tilted his head.  “Interesting.  Most people immediately tell me they hope I told her no.”

“It’s a diplomatic response, Your Majesty.  I want to understand your opinion, not convince you of mine.”  Bryce grinned.  “At least not yet.”

Cailan tilted his head.  “That’s a fresh approach.  I like it.  I did not tell her no.  I told her it was too early to make decisions of that sort.”

“A diplomatic response as well Your Majesty.  And one that makes no promises and elicits no retaliation.”

 _I_ _’_ _ve been a fool._ Cailan almost smiled.  _He treats me like a  man grown, not a stupid boy._

“What are your plans, Your Majesty.  And how do they include me?  I must admit some confusion as to my role when you have Arl Guerrin, your Chancellor, and Arl Philip, your Trade Ambassador, in our party.”

Cailan rose and went to look out the window at the wake receding behind the ship.  He stood with his hands clasped behind his back.  “Honestly, I find Arl Guerrin less effective each year.  I think Eamon honestly believes he works in Ferelden’s best interests, but I begin to doubt that he does.  He treats me like a child.  Perhaps I deserved that four years ago.  I don’t appreciate now.  We argue frequently over policy.  Yet when I consult Anora, she often agrees with me.”  Cailan turned, looked at the Teyrn and grinned.  “You see I do make sure my thoughts make sense.  Anora and Fergus provide excellent sounding boards.”

“I’m biased, I’m afraid, Your Majesty.  I know Fergus has good sense.  I don’t know the queen that well, but Lys and Eleanor do.”  Bryce frowned.  “What of Loghain?”

Cailan shook his head.  “Loghain becomes more testy and suspicious each day.  We can’t hold a conversation without him ranting about Orlesian threats.  Have you seen him recently?”

“No, I did not attend the Kendalls-Bryland nuptials.  Loghain has not ventured north in some time.”

“He retreats to Gwaren more often than he used to.  He returns refreshed, but Denerim seems to disagree with him.  He sleeps badly, looks worse and his temperament…he’s barely spoken to me this past month he’s so angry about this trip.  I almost expect him to call _me_ a traitor.  He’s called Eamon one in private conversation with Anora and me.”

“That is troubling.”  Bryce frowned.  He remembered Loghain doing what was necessary during the Rebellion.  He had been ruthless in his support of Maric and Ferelden.  And selfless as well.  Would Loghain call Maric’s son a traitor for following Maric’s own policies? 

“He always objected to your father’s efforts to make peace with Orlais.  I did as well, at times, but peace is what is needed.  The treaty and new start with Empress Celene in 9:20 marked an improvement in both economies.  King Maric made the right choices.  Trade brings peace.  At least I believe it does.  Your policies there will prove wise as well.”  He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin.  “I’ll speak to him when we return.  With your leave.”

“I hoped you would offer.  I know no one else who might get his attention.  He even argues with Anora.”

“As you will learn with Princess Elin, Your Majesty, Anora is his daughter.  She will always be his daughter.  We don’t like our daughters to grow up.  We often fail to accept it when they do.”

“You speak from experience?  Lys seems a fine young woman.”

“I’ve had more lectures than I care to admit from my wife regarding my daughter.”  Bryce smiled, his eyes unfocused.  “Luckily, Lys and I get on well now.  I let her grow up and she makes me proud.  I’m fortunate in my family, Your Majesty.”

“I can’t disagree with you, Teyrn Bryce.”  He stopped, frowning.  “I don’t apologize easily.  Or admit error.  I made one in keeping you and your family from Court.  I hope to change that.  You have all served me, Anora and Ferelden well in spite of my attitudes.”

“I miss contributing, Your Majesty.  Advising your father proved one of my most rewarding tasks.  Not materially, for I have wealth.  I mean contributing to Ferelden’s safety and strength.  I’d like to do that again.  Now, tell me the specifics of these plans of yours.”

Cailan sat down again, this time in a chair next to the Teyrn.  He leaned forward pointing at the map on the table.  “As you probably know, the Orlesians regret the loss of the Blasted Hills mines.  Even more now that the mines have become so productive and profitable.  They believe you and your Highever metallurgists and miners played a part in that.”

“Only  in part,” Bryce conceded.  “House Haris had expertise before I offered ours.”

“House Haris will not help Orlais with mining expertise.”

“That does not surprise me.”  Bryce rubbed his chin.  “Although House Haris trades with Orlais, they are, after all, a Nevarran merchant house.  Why would they work against Nevarran interests or their own?  If Orlais finds ore, House Haris will compete fairly, but they have no reason to help Orlais discover it or bring it to market.”

“Why indeed.  Why would you?  Cousland family ties to Nevarra run deep, do they not?”

“Quite deep, Your Majesty.”

“My proposal involves helping Orlais find their own sources of ore and gems.  While House Haris will not sell services to Orlais, I’m hoping Highever will.  Do you know the likelihood that ore deposits or precious metal and gem deposits might be found in the Orlesian Frostbacks or farther west?”

“I don’t.  I believe my experts might.  If not, we could assist the Orlesians in prospecting, if they do not have the skills.”

“They claim they do not.”

“Their poor results in the Blasted Hills before Nevarra acquired the territory supports that view.”  Bryce snorted, shaking his head.  “Chevaliers like their fine armor, but have no interest in how the ore is acquired or smelted.”

“Would you agree to provide experts?  At a fee of course?”

“I would if the agreement benefitted us both.  It might take the pressure off the Nevarran mines.  We have expertise in several areas.  Water must be drained, weighty ore must be sorted and transported, the ore must be separated from the surrounding material and not all ore is available from above ground.  Shafts must be driven to get to the deeper deposits.  We can help with smelting, furnaces, water or animal driven mills and transport.”

Cailan rubbed his hands together.  “Good.  Arl Philip and I discussed this at some length last year.  It’s a much better alternative.  Empress Celene requested that I convince you to help Orlais regain the Blasted Hills Mines through treachery.  Eamon supported that request.”

Raising his eyebrows, Bryce sat upright.  “Much better.  I could not agree to oppose House Haris or Nevarra, Your Majesty.  “  He rubbed his chin again.  “May I speak frankly.”

“Please do.”

“We should cultivate Nevarra as an ally, not antagonize them.  Not because Highever has trade interests there, but because they form a balance to Orlesian power.  Orlais will never be our ally.  They can be a friendly adversary, but never an ally.”  He smiled ruefully.  “Your father understood that.  Loghain did not.  He saw Orlais as always an enemy.  From what you say, Eamon also fails to grasp that point.”

Teyrn Bryce leaned back in his chair, feeling more comfortable in the King’s company.

“I like your alternative plan.  It focuses Orlais’ attention away from the Blasted Hills and Nevarra, but provides them with alternative sources of ore and gems.  It’s a good plan.  We need to persuade the Empress and her advisors to agree.  And perhaps Eamon as well?”  Bryce frowned, silent for a moment, and then leaned forward folding his hands on the table.  “Perhaps we could stop in Cumberland on the way home.  Engage in some informal discussions under the guise of visiting House Haris.  Invite the Nevarrans to expand their embassy in Denerim.”

“I like that idea.”  Cailan nodded.  “To persuade the Empress we must offer help, as we’ve discussed, and we must let more merchants into Ferelden.  This year I approved a trading compound for Redcliffe.  Orlesian merchants can enter from Jader, travel along the Imperial Highway or sail down Lake Calenhad and trade in the interior more easily.  It’s  the last trading compound I will approve.  Orlais has a foothold in Highever, Amaranthine and Denerim.  Redcliffe will be the last, however, unlike the other compounds, I will allow merchants based in Redcliffe to travel throughout the interior.”

“I understand Eamon has wanted that concession for years, but, Your Majesty-“

“-it allows Orlais to plant spies throughout Ferelden.  I know.  Believe me Loghain has made the point endlessly.  Anora supports him in this.”  He shrugged.  “But, what prevents them from sending in spies today?  Our borders are not that secure.  We could stop a patrol of chevaliers, but not individuals.  Those two chevaliers at Ostagar proved that!”

“Language prevents them from doing it easily.”

“I’m sorry?”

“If the Orlesians want spies to wander Ferelden today, the spies will need to speak the Common Tongue or Fereldan dialects without accents.  Orlesians tend to arrogance.  They do not learn other languages, which works to our benefit.  Anyone with an Orlesian accent in a Bannorn village will be suspect.  That limits the number of spies who can operate successfully. 

“That will change with merchants.  People tolerate an accent in a foreign merchant.  They will be less suspicious.  Allowing traveling merchants does allow us to know who is spying, but it also allows Orlais to have more eyes on our land.  And to conspire with the Orlesian sympathizers that we know exist.”

Cailan frowned.  “Your arguments make sense.  Perhaps I need to rethink this.  As for language, what about the Chantry?  Or the Wardens?  They wander about and bring in foreign wardens, priests, sisters and brothers.”

Bryce smiled.  The boy was thinking.  Perhaps he could grow into a king in his own right. 

“They would not be suspected either.  Well, perhaps the wardens would, but certainly not the Chantry.  Maker, I sound like Loghain.  Let’s talk about it again tomorrow.”  He stood.  “And further discuss this visit to Cumberland.  I’ve never been.  The Grand Tourney Grounds.  The Necropolis.  The College of Magi and it’s golden dome.”  He grinned, looking like the boy Bryce remembered.  “Glorious.”

Cailan and Bryce both stood and stretched.  Cailan laughed.  “I’ve kept you here too long.  We should go on deck and enjoy the fine weather before our meal.”  He became serious.  “Our conversation, Teyrn Cousland, is confidential.  I will have Eamon brief us on _his_ plans before we arrive.  His plans will include the trading compound in Redcliffe and more attempts to marry me or Elin off to some Orlesian.  Once we hear him,  I will tell him how we will proceed.  We will follow my plans this year.  If Eamon disagrees…well, Chancellors serve at their King’s pleasure.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”  _Could that be a hint he plans to make me Chancellor?_

“One other request.  If you see Eamon try to corner me, please come to my rescue.”

Bryce had to stifle a smile.  “I’ll try, Your Majesty.  Diversions are my specialty.”

Cailan grinned. 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The King and the Teyrn continued to meet.  Several mornings later, as the ship sailed past the islands of the Waking Sea bannorn, King Cailan broached the most sensitive topic, one that would affect both the Couslands and the Broughtens. 

“Has Arl Philip mentioned the young Lord who visited them last autumn?  He joined the Broughtens in Higheverport for Funalis, I think.  Lady Philippa was home at the time.”

“You mean Lord Guy of Montafilan?  Yes, we met him.  Pippa seemed quite taken with him.  It surprised us all.”  Bryce’s eyes narrowed.  “You’re not suggesting-“

“-I am Teyrn Cousland.  A marriage alliance.  Pippa seems to like the man.  He’s the heir to his father’s estate near Verchiel.  I won’t marry in Orlais, but I think some of our young nobles must marry Orlesian lords and ladies.”

Bryce sighed.  The king had a point.  “Has an offer been made?”

“It will be when we arrive.  I don’t think Arl Philip will be surprised, but he may be reluctant.  I hoped you would encourage him and his daughter.”

“If Philippa does not objet, I’ll let Philip know I…support the idea.”

“That’s lukewarm.”

Bryce smiled ruefully.  “I’ll try to be more effusive.”

“Arl Howe turned down a match for his daughter.  Flat refused.  Unless I order it and make an enemy of him, Delilah won’t marry in Orlais.  There is, however, another match that’s been discussed.”  Cailan waited as realization dawned on Bryce.

“She will have to agree,” he replied tersely.  “I promised her she would not be bartered off without her consent.”

“Yes, so Anora told me.  I need you to convince her.”

“Maker, why?  Is that why Anora made her a Lady-in-Waiting?”

“No.  No, Anora opposes Orlesian matches for her Ladies.  She thinks we should first bring Orlesian brides to Ferelden.  Then their offspring, with Orlesian relations, will go willingly into Orlesian marriages.”

“Your lady queen makes a good point.”

“It takes too long.  We must do both.  And the first Fereldan brides must be from significant families.”

“My wife and daughter would have suggested Habren,”  Bryce almost muttered. 

Cailan laughed.  “So would Anora, but that betrothal was long standing.”

Bryce sighed.  “I will speak with her.  I will make no promises on her behalf.”

Cailan frowned. "Perhaps if she met the man. Lord Denis of Rievaulx will inherit a large estate near Lydes. His father is cousin to the Empress. I've met him. He's handsome, wealthy, talented, intelligent, only twenty-five…a good match for Lys. Lydes is not far from Pippa in Verchiel or from the border with Ferelden."

“Perhaps meeting him first would make sense.  She can decide better if she knows the man.”  Bryce sighed anticipating the conversation he must have with Eleanor.  “I’ll agree to their meeting.  Perhaps at Castle Cousland in the autumn.  He could stay for Satinalia.”  Bryce chuckled.  “I’ll leave it to you to convince Queen Anora to release Lys to return home for Satinalia this year.”

Cailan frowned, then grinned.  “I’ll make it easy.  We’ll all come to Highever.  Anora will love spending time with Teyrna Eleanor.  We’ll both enjoy escaping Denerim.  It’s perfect.”

Bryce put both hands to the sides of his temple and groaned.  “That is a ploy worthy of your father.”

Cailan’s grin widened.  “Well, Loghain will come along too.  He can put a damper on any festive occasion.  Even so, it will be fabulous.  You, Loghain, me and Fergus.  Almost like old Summerdays, but with better hunting.  Pippa, Teyrna Eleanor, Lys, Oriana and Anora.  Marvelous.  I’ll speak to Anora as soon as we return. 

“When we arrive in Val Royeaux you can meet Lord Denis and extend the invitation yourself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. I plan to return to weekly posting now that I’ve worked out the intrigue and character development necessary to get to 9:30 Dragon. I’m happy to end the unplanned, but necessary Holiday Hiatus. I hope you all had wonderful Holidays. All the best to you for the New Year.  
> I hope you continue to read and enjoy. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome comments, encouragement, suggestions and critiques.  
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eyes. Her astute comments improve every post. Any errors are all mine.  
> Thanks to all who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. Special thanks to those who Reviewed: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, caraine, nymra, nonny guest, EasternViolet and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. Knowing you enjoy the story inspires me.


	53. Intrigue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the Waking Sea and in Orlais. 9:29 Dragon Bloomingtide and Justinian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

"Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…"  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

 **Chapter 53** **– INTRIGUE**

* * *

 

**9:29 Dragon Bloomingtide === Royal Palace, Val Royeaux**

Hidden passageways riddled the Royal Palace in Val Royeaux.  Passages ran behind walls, under floors, through basements and beneath courtyards.  If one knew the right passages, one could travel from the upper floors to the deepest dungeons or out into the gardens and the city.  Each new ruler surveyed them, trying to find and block those that threatened the Imperial person or built new ones to meet the requirements of their Great Game.  Empress Celene had been no exception.  At her ascension to the throne, she set her spymaster the task of mapping the passages and securing the palace. .  Only the empress and her spymaster had the complete map.  Even then, neither believed every passage had been found.  The spymaster stayed alert when traveling the passages for hints of other branches.

Every suite, salon or library in the palace had its spy hole.  Only the Empress could expect to live unobserved in the royal palace.  Even the garden had observation points accessed from underground.  Any bench or statue might hide a listening post or peep hole.  It behooved the Emperor or Empress to have more intelligence than their adversaries.

Celene’s spymaster walked along one of the passages on the evening the Fereldan ship anchored in the harbor.  The Fereldans would be welcomed, in a fitting manner, the next morning.  The palace staff had readied their rooms in anticipation of their arrival.  Plans had been set in motion.  Observers assigned to posts.  Now the spymaster needed to see the Empress.

The elf, because the spymaster was an elf, pulled on a lever that opened an entryway into another passage.  The dark haired elf closed the opening after passing through.  This corridor, unknown to most occupants of the building, ran inside a wall.  As the elf walked along the corridor, observation alcoves appeared at intervals.  The elf climbed to the third level, walked down the passage and stopped near some runes embedded in the wall.  She had passed such runes elsewhere.  Pressing them in the correct sequence would cause a panel to slide open.  Press them in the wrong sequence and a toxic fog would immobilize the intruder.  The elf knew the proper sequence.

A slender woman, her blonde hair almost white, sat at an _escritoire_ reading and making notes when the wall panel slid open.  Her hair hung loosely falling past her waist.  Her lapis blue silk robe revealed pale skin where it lay open between small breasts.  She slipped a silk cord between the book’s pages, closed it, and replaced it on the bookshelf behind her.  She stared at the intruder, but showed no alarm as the armed, unmasked elf entered her chamber. 

“Briala.”  It was not a question. 

“ _Oui_ , Your Radiance.  _Bon soir_.”  Briala’s green eyes stared into the Empress’s blue ones.  The elf sketched a mocking bow.

“I expected you earlier.”

The elf smirked.  “Perhaps I can apologize later?”

“That can be arranged, _chérie_.”  She smiled at her handmaiden, and then sighed.  “ _Eh bien_ , business first.  We will welcome the Fereldans tomorrow, yes?  Arrangements, they are complete?”

“ _Oui._   Observers have been assigned.  The rooms made ready.  I expect no surprises from the Arl, his brother or the king.  The Teyrn puzzles me, however.  We have observed him in Highever, but not as part of the royal entourage.  We do not know how much influence he has with King Cailan.”

“What _do_ we know?”

“Quite a bit, but as I said we do not know the extent of his influence with the king.  We do know he is both a Fereldan patriot, who fought in the Rebellion, and an ally of Nevarra, with family ties to the noble and merchant classes.  He has a certain…umm…sophistication the other Fereldans lack.  His influence on Cailan may not favor Orlais, but he believes trade brings peace, so it may not hurt us either.  He is not Teyrn Loghain.”

Celene snorted softly.  “Good news, no?”

“I may spend time observing him myself while he is here.  I can confirm what has been reported.  You should converse with him.  He’s well educated and well spoken.”

The Empress raised her eyebrows.  _This Fereldan must indeed be different to capture Briala’s interest._

“His addition to the embassy was unexpected, but perhaps fortuitous.  It confirms Arl Guerrin’s diminishing influence with King Cailan.  Although the Arl would have us think otherwise, the decision to include the Teyrn was King Cailan’s alone.  The king has been improving his relationship with the Couslands over the past year, with the Queen’s encouragement.  If Teyrn Cousland is the Queen’s man, then he must want to diminish Arl Guerrin’s influence.  If that’s true, it may not work in our favor.  In that proves to be the case, it would have been better had the Teyrn remained in disfavor.  If he works against us, we must discredit him again.

“If does not oppose our plans with King Cailan we can let him rise in favor.  I recommend we  convince him to work with us.  Not to the extent the Guerrins have.  They Teyrn is not one to dally in subterfuge which would harm the royal family.  He will espouse policies, however, that benefit Orlais, if they also benefit Ferelden and do no harm to Nevarra.  He is a royalist.  He will support the king and ultimately, after advising him, follow King Cailan’s wishes.

“So he thinks for himself, but will acquiesce in the end?”

“He will influence the king and, I think, the queen.  They will listen.  We cannot use him to harm them.  As he learns to trust us, other plans may come to fruition.  The marriage plans will help us achieve that trust; as will the mining contracts.”

“And the Guerrins.  Are you telling me to abandon them?”  Empress Celene frowned, thinking how that might hurt other plans in Ferelden.

“No.  Just let them focus on the Redcliffe trading compound for now.  Their enthusiasm for betrothing the Crown Princess and fostering her here has alarmed the Queen and King.  It was foolish and not ordered by me.  They make their bias towards Orlais too clear.  If Arl Guerrin continues he will lose his Chancellorship and the good will of the Landsmeet.” 

Briala loosened the cord that held her dark hair, letting it fall loosely down her back.

“I think we must recall Marjolaine or I must go meet with her, perhaps in Jader or just across the border in Ferelden.  I dislike this lack of control.  Both the Guerrins and Marjolaine fail too frequently.   They pursue their own interests.”

“Marjolaine played no part in engineering Teyrn Cousland’s regaining favor.  She has influence with one of his vassals, no?”

“Her paramour, Arl Howe, does not want see the Teyrn back in favor.  The Guerrins do not want another voice influencing the king.  His return benefits neither.  Even Loghain has become suspicious of his friend, in spite of his daughter’s assurances.  He did not favor the Teyrn joining this embassy to Orlais, even if Cailan requested it. 

“The king has become independent of these advisors.  I fear the Teyrn will encourage this independence and add his own voice, so we must insure Teyrn Cousland will support our views. His part in agreeing to the marriages and providing the mining expertise is critical.  There have been too many failures.  Perhaps more than we know.”

“What don’t we know, Briala?” 

The elf remained calm in spite of the Queen’s gaze.  “Although Marjolaine denies it, I fear Queen Anora has won the heart of our little Erlina.”

“Erlina?  You think so?”

“That potion was not defective.  I created it, tested it here and sent it to Marjolaine.  She tested samples again with several women who had previously given birth.  None became pregnant either here or in Ferelden.  Someone tampered with it.  Someone very talented.”

“Which is not Erlina, I think.”

“No.  She is not an herbalist.  Nor did she contact one or so Marjolaine reports.  In this, I believe Marjolaine.  She would have prevented any adulteration had she known.  As a result, we do not know how it happened, but I am sure Erlina passed the potion to someone else who spoiled it.  She then reported its failure and returned the unused vials.  Marjolaine and her Chantry sister, Eleutheria, failed.  Now the Fereldan’s have an heir.”

The Empress pinched her chin and rubbed a thumb beneath it.  “You can meet Marjolaine after the Fereldans leave.  Send to her to meet you in Jader in a month.”

“She must take care not to make Howe suspicious.”  Briala added.

“That should not be a problem.  She’s masquerades as a merchant, yes?  Merchants travel.”

“Of course.  I worry too much perhaps.  We may need Howe, I don’t want to lose contact.”

“Is he that useful?”

“Howe’s animosity towards the Teyrn may be useful. Marjolaine says that he does not exhibit it openly, but he hates the Couslands.  He has some influence with Teyrn Loghain, who already criticizes Teyrn Cousland for traveling with the king.  Arl Howe believes Teyrn Cousland agreed to join the king as a ploy to regain his favor.  He whispers to Teyrn Loghain that he fears Teyrn Cousland develops Orlesian sympathies so that he may regain his position at Court.  It separates Teyrn Loghain from his old friend Teyrn Cousland.”

“So he divides the nobility, even if Teyrn Cousland regains favor.”

”Yes.  And if we need to discredit Cousland, Howe lays some groundwork. I prefer Cousland as an ally, but I must plan for the worst.  We’ll see how the marriage contracts and mining agreements work out.  If he supports them, we let him rise.  If he opposes us, we’ll see he that he falls again.”

Briala smiled.  “If the Teyrn works with us, agrees to the marriages and mining contracts, and gives advice we agree with to the king, we will discredit Arl Howe to dispel his rumors.  We can argue that Teyrn Cousland only pursues the policy of his king, yes?  The mining agreements benefit Ferelden, as do the marriages.  With their Landsmeet supporting the king, the Teyrn retains his position at Court.  Either way he is of use, which is more than I can say for the Guerrin’s of late.”

“Howe, still deals with Tevinter, no?”

“Yes.”  Briala smiled.  “His mother and wife came from Perivantium.   His household hosts two Magisters.  He plays a crude version of the Game in Ferelden.  A thoroughly nasty man, but one who holds some influence in their Landsmeet.  He’s the perfect tool for our Marjolaine.  Arrogant, greedy, lascivious and venal.”

Celene tilted her head, chewing her upper lip, and then smiled.  “It works in our favor if it divides the Fereldan nobility.  This Cousland, he has no Orlesian ties we can use?”  The Empress twisted a long strand of pale hair around her finger.

“Not yet, but perhaps after his daughter marries here….”

“Ah, yes.  We will have leverage if the beloved daughter is here.   Doubly so with the Broughten girl’s marriage to Guy de Montafilan in Verchiel.  The Cousland son married an Antivan merchant’s daughter?”

“Yes, the daughter of a very wealthy, influential, merchant family.”

“Too bad.  We could have provided a lovely bride.  They have ties to Calenhad, no?”

“Yes, Couslands married Theirins on several occasions.”

“The Cousland daughter should have married by now, no?”

“It’s to our benefit that she has not.  She’s a rather independent child.  With her father out of favor, no Fereldan spoke for her.  Until recently, she spent most of her time in Nevarra at the Haris manor near Nevarra City, or so we believe.  We do not have an observer inside the manor.”

“She could have left and we would not have known?”

“Possibly, but our observers in Cumberland and Nevarra City saw no trace of Lady Cousland traveling anywhere but back to Highever.  As part of her effort to bring the Couslands back into favor, the Queen made Lady Cousland one of her Ladies-in-Waiting.  It behooves us to get the marriage contract settled before others seek to gain her hand now that she is at Court.”

“Could she travel under another name?”  Celene seemed worried.

“Perhaps, but why?  No, it appears she enjoys the manor.  It’s quite large.  She enjoys riding and hunting.  She weaves and spins.  She dabbles in that part of the House Haris business, in fact.  Odd, for a noble, but her mother does the same from Highever and the Teyrnir prospers from their influence it seems.  No, there is much to occupy her at the Haris Manor.  She has no reason to leave, unless to go to Cumberland or Highever.”

“Her mercantile interests shouldn’t have precluded a foreign marriage, if, as you say, they’re a wealthy family.”

“It’s possible she avoided marriage.  Another reason to remain secluded at the Haris Manor.  An elven handmaid accompanies her.”  Briala smiled at the Empress.  “This Tabris wields daggers, but claims to be her mistress’ lady’s maid.  She does perform the duties of a handmaiden, but is overly familiar with the young Cousland.”

“Inappropriately so?”  Celene smirked.

“I suppose that depends on your definition of inappropriate.”

“You have not confirmed they are lovers.”  Celene frowned.  “It would make the marriage much easier.  She would have her lover.  Denis could have his mistresses if wished.”

“He has none yet, Your Radiance.”

“I know.  _I_ find Denis de Rievaulx puzzling.”  She stared at Briala, eyes unfocused.  Her head tilted.  “Does _he_ prefer men?  That would be perfect.”

“No, Celene.  No evidence of that.”

“Ah, well, if we can marry our Seigneurs to the three noble Fereldan girls, we will have a foothold.  Denis to the Cousland, Guy to the Broughten and, later, Gervais de Ferrand to the Howe girl.  Perhaps we can arrange a quadruple Summerday wedding and include Howe’s son.  Surround King Cailan with Orlesian nobles.”  Empress Celene leaned back in her chair, smiling.  “It will be a relief not to try to seduce Cailan on this visit.  He’s tolerable as men go, certainly not chaste, but astonishingly loyal to his wife.”

“No hope there, Your Radiance.  Not since the child.”

“Let’s not mention the Crown Princess this visit.  Let Cailan think he won that battle.  She’s a babe.  There’s time yet for royal betrothals.” 

“I will make that clear to Arl Guerrin.”  Briala waited for Celene to resume speaking. 

Celene twirled her finger in a lock of hair, thinking, before she spoke again.  “I don’t think we will have to remove the Queen, at least not yet.  I respect Queen Anora.”

Briala raised an eyebrow.

“She’s capable, intelligent, administers Ferelden well in Cailan’s name, but I fear she’ll remain an obstacle.  She would make a talented adversary, if she understood the Game better.  I fear she would learn quickly, should the need arise.”  Celene pursed her lips.  “ She would make an even more talented ally.  Perhaps we should cultivate our solitary rose.”

“Solitary rose?”

“I called her that when I met her on my visit to Denerim in 9:20.  She stood out from among her peers.  I called them thorns, I believe.”

Briala chuckled.  “That must have endeared you to the nobility.”

“No, but it hurt her more.  Being the daughter of a common farmer betrothed to a Theirin did not make her popular.  Loghain has not been fully accepted by the nobility, even today.  Compliments from an Orlesian Empress only underscored her…umm… uniqueness.  The results of my comment infuriated her father, annoyed the king and isolated the Crown Prince’s betrothed.  A good few minute’s work.  Perhaps I will write to her to congratulate the Crown Princess on her first name day.  And apologize for stealing two of her Ladies-in-Waiting.  I’ll invite her visit them here.  She’s quite intelligent and might like to see my University.  We have much in common.  Beautiful too.”  She glanced at Briala, “We might both enjoy an evening with Queen Anora, yes?”

Briala smiled.  “An interest in ruling, education and her husband?  Will you invite him to join us too.  I think you would shock her, Celene.”

“All the better.”  Celene chewed her cheek.  “You will need to discuss these plans when you see Marjolaine.  I don’t like these random shifts in tactics.  The Guerrins need to be controlled, even if this Cousland ploy works out.  They push too hard and fail too often.”

Briala smiled.  She did not like the Arl or the Arlessa.  One thing about Teyrn Cousland, he treated his elven subjects well.  The Arlessa, on the other hand, had the worst characteristics of her class.  She treated her human servants badly and the elven servants worse.  She hoped they could make an ally of the Teyrn.  She realized she had been ignoring the Empress when Celene started tapping her quill on the _escritoire_. 

“First Queen Anora has the baby,” Empress Celene continued, “now Cousland returns to influence.  It may divide the nobility, but we lose control.  What will the Arl and Arlessa fail to do next?”  The Empress hesitated, thinking.  “Perhaps some action should be taken against them, but other matters are more pressing.  We can do nothing to punish the Arl while he is here with the king.  We must wait and see how Teyrn Cousland works out, before we address the Guerrin problem.  What about the boy, speaking of Guerrin failures.  The bastard prince?  The one they let escape to the Chantry.”

“He’s at the Chantry in Denerim held in a punishment cell of some sort.  The Knight-Vigilant and Knights-Divine will order him moved here once he becomes more biddable.”

“How much longer will that take?”

“A month or two.  Isolation seems to have broken his spirit.  Removing him, however, must be done carefully.  The king will object.  He’s tried to remove him several times already.  Apparently he feels some fraternal concern for the boy.  Perhaps it can be done secretly during Funalis or their Landsmeet, when they are distracted by other things.”

“So he will take no vows?”

“Only if necessary and only the most minor.  None that would prevent marriage.  All will be decided when he comes to Val Royeaux.”

“Templars can marry.  In truth, it will leave Cousin Hortensia free to have lovers if he’s off on templar duties.  We need him to father Theirins, nothing more.  Once there are a few babies, he becomes unnecessary.  He can only complicate matters at that point.”

“We can solve that difficulty with ease, Your Radiance.”

Celene nodded, still thinking.  “His offspring could even marry the little princess.  He and Cailan are only half brothers, after all.”  The Empress of Orlais smiled.  “Yes, I rather like _that_ solution.”  She stretched, arms raised above her head, back arching.  As she lowered them, her robe slipped off one shoulder revealing a pebbled nipple. 

Briala walked behind her.  She leaned down, kissed the imperial neck where it met her shoulder.  The elf slid one hand inside the robe pinching the covered nipple while caressing the visible one with her other hand.  Celene let raised her arms, circling them around Briala’s neck.  She pulled her closer, fondling the elf’s ear. 

“I think, my sweet, it’s time for that apology, no?” 

**9:29 Dragon  ===  Val Royeaux**

Bryce Cousland stood at the rail looking at the city of Val Royeaux.   The city lay on a plain with no high points to hold the remains of an ancient stronghold.  Instead of a fortress, the Grande Cathédrale stood in the center of the city, the white stone of its twin spires reflecting the morning sun.  Off to the east, the single tower of the White Spire, home of the Circle of Magi, rose to an equal height as if in opposition to the Chantry.  The squat towers of the Royal Palace appeared just to the west of the Cathedral, barely showing above the grey and red roof tiles of the city.  The proximity of palace and cathedral seemed to signify the alliance between the Empress and the Divine that Queen Anora and King Cailan believed threatened Alistair.  Teyrn Cousland knew the Empress’s University lay beyond the palace to the west, although if it had a tower or spires, he could not see them. 

Lys had been to Val Royeaux.  She had traveled overland from Cumberland as Layne Haris, a merchant.  Her stories had amused the family when she visited last Satinalia.  She had not, of course, moved in noble circles, but merchants lived flamboyantly in Val Royeaux.  Lys had many tales of masked Orlesians at salons, in the merchant houses, in the markets and at the taverns.  Now he could see the city himself. 

 _Eleanor should be here.  She would enjoy all this and be a valuable ally.  Visiting with the Empress’s ladies and meeting the noble women._ He grinned to himself.  _Flirting with the noble men.  She could get a view of Orlais none of us can acquire.  Next time,_ he promised himself.  Then he grimaced.  _If he survived to have a next time._   _Next time might be visiting Lys and her Orlesian husband.  Ellie might never forgive him for that._

A grandly adorned lighter approached _Calenhad’s Ghost_.  Gold leaf decorated the intricately carved prow and gunwales.  The rowers wore elaborate livery in the red, buff and white set off with gold heraldry of the Orlesian Empire.  They stood in the stern, working the large oars or sweeps.  Three Imperial officials, in elaborate robes, sat in the prow.   

Bryce sighed.  He put on the simple half mask Cailan had insisted everyone wear.  We must honor our host’s customs he had admonished when Bryce raised an eyebrow.  _And so it begins._   He joined the others at rail.

The ship’s crew piped an Imperial representative aboard the _Calenhad._ The official invitedthe Fereldan delegation to board the Orlesian lighter for the short trip to the dock where the official greeting would take place.  The rest of the Fereldan retinue and their luggage would follow in the _Calenhad’s_ boat.  The five Fereldan’s made their way down the ladder.  Once on the docks, carriages waited to take the Fereldan’s to the palace.     

The Orlesians greeting King Cailan on the dock included her Foreign Secretary, Seigneur Puiset; the Ambassador to Ferelden, Seigneur Suizy, who had returned to Orlais for King Cailan’s visit; and the Constable of Orlais, Sieur Guesclin. The Fereldan Ambassador to Orlais, Ser Hugh, also awaited his king on the dock. Bryce found it disturbing him that the Constable, who was not only the first officer of the empire, but also the head of its military, led the welcoming delegation.  He would have preferred to see the Grand Master or Lord Chancellor perform the formalities.  _The Empress mixes her messages.  The Imperial war leader welcomes the Fereldan King.  Does it signify threatening or peaceful intent?_

**_o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o_ **

Teyrn Bryce Cousland pulled off the mask and admired the spacious chambers to which he had been led by a quiet elven servant.   For some reason, the dark haired, masked elf had piqued his interest.  She spoke the Common Tongue quite well in answer to his questions.  She seemed…observant.  Or perhaps it was just her piercing green eyes, which reminded him of Ellie and Lys.  _I’m probably imagining things.  I know we’ll be observed, but not every servant is a spy._   

He found his own longtime man servant, Harry, unpacking his things.  The elven woman spoke with Harry, answering his questions before leaving.  Bryce walked over to the window that looked out onto a courtyard centered around a fountain as the two servants spoke.  A carved lion sat on a pedestal in an attitude sejant[17] with water pouring from its open mouth into the circular pool below.  Stones paved the area around the pool forming a rectangle.  He guessed doors opened onto the courtyard from the ground floor two stories below.  On the far side, plane trees lined the edge of the paved area.  Benches placed beneath them remained unoccupied despite the warm, sunny day.  The trees rustled in the breeze.

Harry came up beside him and placed a note on the windowsill.  Bryce slid it over so he could read it.

_Found only one spy hole in each room, both on the north wall.  Should I plug them?_

Bryce waved his hand, palm flat and facing down, over the note, indicating no.  He and Harry had worked out subtle signals over the years.

“Would you like to rest before dinner, My Lord?”

“Yes, Harry.  Perhaps you should acquaint yourself with the layout.  You know how I often like evening treats when I can’t sleep.”

Harry grinned, knowing the listener, if there was one, would arrange for him to learn where to get such treats.  It would  be subtle, but the answer would confirm the observation post was occupied.

Bryce looked again at the courtyard.  He noticed several of the benches had solid bases, with decorative carving.  _I wonder_ _….the Falanni have similar benches in Antiva City.  They provide listening posts._   _Sweet Andraste.  They’ll be nowhere he to meet privately I suspect._   _I wonder if Cailan knows._

Bryce sat in the cushioned chair by the window to read.  From the location of the spy hole, he suspected one person could view both his rooms.  Covering the holes would not provide full privacy.  Any observer could still hear.  They would simply have to be careful.  He shook his head smiling.  _Oh, for an Arethian bathroom with a shower to mask a conversation._

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The Fereldan’s met with their Orlesian counterparts in the morning.  King Cailan led his delegation into the large studio.  Introductions were made.  Chancellor Guerrin left with Arl Broughten and the Orlesian Minister of Trade to finalize the Redcliffe Trade Compound agreement, much to his dismay.  That left King Cailan and Teyrn Cousland to meet with the Grand Seigneurs to agree on the other topics of discussion.  Marriage contracts and joint mining projects headed the list.  

King Cailan assured Eamon that his presence would not  be required.  Bryce, whom he introduced as his Foreign Minister, would take the lead in all discussions.  Eamon, as Chancellor, would advise, representing Ferelden’s domestic interests.  The king insisted that Eamon should be involved in the trade talks as both Chancellor and the Arl of Redcliffe. Bann Teagan would join him.  Cailan had shrugged at Eamon’s objections, smiled and patted Eamon on the shoulder while gently pushing him towards the door.  Bryce had covered a chuckle with cough.  _When did Cailan develop finesse?  That’s what Maric would have done._

Once the Grand Seigneurs agreed to a schedule of meetings they left, leaving King Cailan and Teyrn Cousland alone in the studio.

“Well, we cleared the room nicely,”  Cailan said.  “We have most of the morning ahead of us without Eamon.”

“He’ll be angry.”

“He’ll be annoyed.  He’s always annoyed.  Arl Broughten and Bann Teagan can follow through at future meetings, but Eamon should be aware of what’s happening in his own arling.  I’m tired of reminding him that I am king.”

Bryce refrained from commenting.

“So, no diplomatic rejoinder, Teyrn Cousland?”  Cailan smiled.

“None, Your Majesty.”

“You should have seen Eamon’s face when I told him about your gifts to the empress.   I told him separate gifts, in addition to my own, were appropriate from a Teyrn who was my Foreign Minister.  He’d be trying to decide what he could find on short notice that wouldn’t overshadow my gift, but would better yours if he knew what your gift is.”  Cailan rubbed his neck, grimacing slightly.   “You should watch your back, though.  I hadn’t realized how jealous he was of your position.”

“No?  I’m afraid I’ve been aware of it for five years now.”  Bryce spoke softly and guided Cailan closer to the door.  “I suspect we’re observed here, Your Majesty.”

“Ah, yes I’m sure you’re correct, but someone listening outside the door is too obvious?”

Bryce nodded yes.

“You’re sure it was Eamon who put your name forward?”  Cailan whispered.

“Positive, but no proof.  Nor am I sure if Howe was aiding Eamon or hoping I would win.  Howe’s motives…wealth certainly, but more recognition perhaps?  An Arling owing fealty only to the king?  Regardless, Esmerelle would only act at his command.”

Cailan laughed.  “He has a paramour in Denerim too it’s said.”

“Possibly more than one.  He’s a man of large appetites.  Fortunately, he has not threatened me directly.  Eamon, of course, is looking for a third Teynir in the southwest.  That might be Howe’s objective as well.  Combine Amaranthine and Denerim into a Teyrnir.”

“Father used to say that too.  A third teyrnir for either would infuriate the Landsmeet.  They would never agree.  Wulff and Bryland would rightfully complain.”  Cailan looked at Teyrn Bryce.  “As would you, I imagine.”

“A Teyrnir, yes.  And there’s no reason, for Howe.  He can change allegiance at will.  Establish an Arling owing fealty only to you.  Asking the Landsmeet for approval would be wise, but even that’s not required.”

Cailan nodded.  “Not so simple for Eamon in his fortress with no vassals.”

Bryce grinned.  “And an ambitious, Orlesian wife.”

Cailan could only snort in response.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The formal audience with Empress Celene took place after the ringing of the Nones bells.  Upon entering the small audience room, Bryce surveyed the crowd.  All were masked, as was the Fereldan embassy.  Most were men, but a few women stood among the crowd.  All wore Court dress, which, for most, did not include armor.  A dozen Guard stood at intervals along the paneled walls.  Their silver, black and red armor stood out against the dark, carved wood.  Clerestory windows brought light into the space.  Most windows were clear, but a few had colored glass which sprinkled the gathered nobility and the polished marble floor with specks of rose, green, blue and gold.

A flamboyantly dressed herald stood to the right of the Imperial Throne.  Less obvious, was the exquisitely armored person standing to the left in the front of the room.  The individual, Bryce guessed an elf based on the short, slim stature, wore perfectly crafted black armor, a light helmet, covering the ears, and a simple black and silver mask.  A dark braid provided the only indication the elf was, most likely, a woman.

_Dragonbone, unless I’m mistaken.  She wears a small fortune._

Before he could think further, the herald announced the Empress.  Celene entered from behind the throne and seated herself.  Everyone in the room bowed, some lower than others depending on their station.  Cailan, the only other unmasked person in the room, merely inclined his head, while placing right hand on his heart.

The herald proceeded to announce the Fereldan embassy.  Led by Ambassador Hugh, the king and four nobles moved forward.

“Welcome, King Cailan.  We are pleased to see you here in Val Royeaux again.  It’s gratifying to think another year of peace has passed between our two nations.”

“Your Radiance, it pleases us to greet you.  Perhaps we can celebrate another year of peace and prosperity next year in Denerim.” 

Cailan motioned Bann Teagan forward.  Teagan approached the Herald as King Cailan spoke.

“We hope you accept this small token of our admiration.”

The Imperial Herald accepted the package and set it on a table.

“We will consider your invitation, Your Majesty.  It’s been almost ten years since we last visited your capital.  We accept your kind gift.”  She nodded at the Herald.

“Her Radiance, the Empress Celene, acknowledges the gift of a bound manuscript from His Royal Majesty the King of Ferelden.”

“I’m intrigued, Your Majesty.   What is this manuscript?”

“A history, Your Radiance, of the Avvar tribes who inhabit the Frostback Mountains written by a Chantry Scholar.”

“How interesting, Your Majesty.  Inhabitants of our respective borderlands, yes?”

She shifted her gaze to Chancellor Guerrin.  “And Chancellor Guerrin.  Welcome.  We’re pleased to see you looking so well.  Your health has been good, yes?”

Eamon looked disconcerted.  “My health…umm yes...quite fine, Your Radiance.”

“We’re so glad to hear it.  And you Arl Broughten.  Your family, they are well?  I understand you have a lovely daughter.”

“I am pleased to return to Val Royeaux, Your Radiance.  I thank you for inquiring after my family.  I do have a daughter, Philippa.  She serves our queen, at present, in Denerim.”

“Ah yes, I heard she served as a Lady-in-Waiting to your lovely queen.  I am sure that is good training.”  The Empress's eyes passed over Bann Teagan dismissively and returned to King Cailan.  “And the new member of your embassy, Your Majesty.  We have perhaps met before?”

“Your Radiance, may I present Teyrn Bryce Cousland of Highever my Foreign Minister.”

Bryce bowed his most courtly bow.  _“Je suis heureux de faire votre connaissance, Votre Majesté Impériale.  Vous avez raison.  Nous avons rencontré il ya dix ans dans Denerim, lor votre visite a Roi Maric.”_

As he rose he saw surprise flicker then disappear as Celene composed herself.

 _“Vous parlez Orlesian_ , Teyrn Cousland.  _Bravo!_   We thought we recalled your face.  Quite the courtier, yes?”

 _“Je l’espere, Votre Majesté Impériale.”_   He stifled a smirk at Arl Eamon’s surprised look.  _If he had done his homework, he would know I speak Orlesian._

“Your accent…it is Nevarran?”

“Yes, Your Radiance.  I have family ties in Nevarra.”

“Ah, yes.  Moranghasts and Haris, _n’est pas?_ ”

“ _Oui_ , Your Radiance.  You are, not surprisingly, well informed.”

Bryce turned to two servants who moved forward carrying two chests.  “Since this is our first meeting, Your Radiance, I also brought gifts from my Teyrnir of Highever.”

The Imperial Herald received the chests.

“I am curious, Teyrn Cousland.  What could those chests contain?”

“One chest holds several bottles of Highever’s best _uisge baugh_ or _aqua vitae_.  Water of life, we call it.”  He smiled. “It can be an acquired taste, however, so the other chest holds several bottles of very fine Antivan brandy.” 

Empress Celene almost smiled.  “I like you Teyrn Cousland.  Thank you.”  Celene surprised the room, by using to the singular personal pronoun.  “We will get along well.  We look forward  to seeing you frequently.”

Even Cailan eyebrows raised at this last exchange. 

 _Maker, they’ll leave me here if this familiarity keeps up._   Bryce thought. _What is she playing at?  They are unremarkable gifts._

Celene turned her attention back to King Cailan.  “I look forward to meeting with you further, Your Majesty.  Our private discussions are always…constructive, yes?” Empress Celene smiled using the singular pronoun again, as if to mollify Cailan, and then swept her arm in front of her. 

“We look forward to mutually beneficial discussions again this year with our Fereldan friends.  Our Ministers will engage with you to ensure success.”  Empress Celene rose and the Fereldan’s and Orlesians bowed again as she left.  

“Well, you certainly made an impression, Bryce.”  Cailan chuckled.  “I should have realized you spoke Orlesian with your Nevarran ties.  I suppose we should feel relieved it did not offend Her Radiance.”

Bryce sighed to himself in relief.  Cailan did not seem upset by his exchange with the Empress.  “My accent is slight I’m told.  Cumberland speaks a very similar dialect to that spoken in Val Chevin _._ ”

They turned towards the door, only to find Eamon blocking their way.  “Quite the performance, Teyrn Cousland.”

Bryce smiled and shrugged slightly.  “I speak the language, Eamon.  I saw no need to hide it, particularly when I suspect her people already knew.”

“No, no of course not.”  He nodded.  “Valid point.  They would be suspicious if, as you say, they already knew.”

“Come, gentlemen,” King Cailan prodded.  “We dine in our quarters tonight.  You can all join me my rooms and we’ll make an evening of it.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Meetings continued the next morning.  Again, King Cailan sent a Teagan, Philip Broughten and a grumbling Eamon, off to finalize the terms of the Redcliffe Trade Compound.  He and Teyrn Cousland met with several nobles and the Interior Minister about mining.  Bryce brought two of his mining experts along and already had the outline of an agreement in mind.  He let the Orlesians present their needs and concerns, then presented his proposal addressing them.  The Orlesians, surprised, agreed to review it with their experts and meet again later in the week.

“I think we will come to agreement fairly easily.  The western slope of the Frostbacks presents the obvious area to prospect.  It avoids clashes with Nevarra, allows us to see where the Orlesians go along our border and we can point them further south and east.  The foothills south of Lydes may hold some ore as well.  We can move on to less salutary locations in the future.”

“It seems too easy.”

“Let’s see what they come back with, Your Majesty.  We must be careful not to encroach on Dwarven mines, although they tend dig more deeply.  The Orlesians know that.  They have good relations with King Endrin.  Perhaps I will suggest a delegation visit King Endrin to inform him of our purpose.”  Bryce cocked his head and smiled at Cailan.  “Have you been to Orzammar?”

“Once, with father, when I was very young.  Are you suggesting I return?”

“It might be interesting to meet with the King.  Let’s give it some thought, Your Majesty.  Fergus will beg to join you I think.  He enjoyed our last visit.”  Bryce chuckled.  “Actually, Lys might try to tag along too.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The dinner held in honor of the Fereldan delegation the next afternoon proved informal by Orlesian standards.  Orlesian servants escorted the five nobles to the _Petite Salle à Manger._ Somewhat larger than the hall at Castle Cousland, a long table, covered with a linen cloth, spanned one end of the room on a raised platform.  Two other wider tables ran parallel to each other down the length of the room.  Chairs lined only one side of the head table, but both sides of the lower tables.  Opposite the double doors of the entry, on the far wall, large windows provided light to supplement the candelabra placed on the tables.  Through the windows Bryce could see the courtyard with the Lion fountain which was visible from his rooms. 

“They hold evening “suppers” in the _Grand Salon,”_  Teagan whispered to Bryce.  “Hundreds often attend those.  We’ll probably have to suffer through one the night before we leave.”

“We’ve attended similar ones in Cumberland, truth be told,” Bryce whispered back.  “Although usually during Satinalia.  Sometimes you’re lucky and get seated with a convivial group.”

“And sometimes not,” Teagan muttered as he found his seat at the end of the head table next to his brother.

Bryce chuckled as he moved farther along the head table.  His amusement deepened when he discovered his name on the seat to the left of the Empress.  King Cailan, of course, was to Celene’s right.  He glanced at the place tag to his own left.  Naturally, Seigneur Denis de Rievaulx.  Philip was next and then Seigneur Guy de Montafilan.  _Time for the betrothal discussion to begin._  

Once he found the location of his seat, Bryce walked to the windows.  No one could sit until the Empress appeared, so the guests took a glass of wine or ale and wandered the salon chatting.  Standing alone with is wine, Bryce looked across the paved courtyard to the formal gardens beyond.  At this level, the gardens beyond the courtyard were visible beyond the trees.

Grass and stone covered paths ran between carefully clipped shrubbery.  No colorful blooms interrupted the geometric perfection.  He admired the artistry, but missed the colors and curves of a Ferelden garden.   Several windows opened on to the courtyard and some guests had gone out to enjoy the breeze.  Feeling a presence, he turned to find a handsome young nobleman, masked of course, standing beside him.  “Teyrn Cousland, I think,” the young man said.

“Yes, is it so obvious?”

“No.  Arl Broughten pointed you out to me.  I’m Denis de Rievaulx.”  The young man bowed slightly as he introduced himself. 

Denis de Rievaulx surprised Bryce.  His hose, tunic and sleeveless gown were of fine silk and wool cloth.  The green and black colors more subdued than most other Orlesians wore.  His three quarter mask, green with gold feathers on one temple and gold etching on the cheeks left his mouth visible.

“I am pleased to meet you, Seigneur.”

Empress Celene entered at that point.  She again wore no mask.  King Cailan had explained that she rarely wore a mask, which is why he did not wear one.  Everyone bowed, then moved to stand by their chairs.  Celene sat and the company followed, but not before each removed their mask and hung it on a hook on the back of their chair.  One did not eat and drink through full masks, apparently.  Denis de Rievaulx explained that at very formal occasions one carried a half mask to replace the full one during a meal, but here, during an informal dinner, it was not necessary.  Bryce surveyed the room and noticed a few did wear the half mask, but most ate barefaced.

Denis surprised Bryce by discussing mining.  Apparently his lands, or rather his father’s lands, around Lydes held ore deposits.  At present none of the old mines still produced. 

“Perhaps you could visit.  My father would welcome you and your family.  It’s not a long trip by ship.”

“I’ll consider it, Lord de Rievaulx.”  Bryce smiled.

“I would like to offer you a chance to see more of the countryside here, Teyrn Cousland.  I have a small manor just outside the city.  I’m afraid this is not the season for hunting, but we can ride.  I have a fine stable.  I’m sure we can find you a compatible mount.”

“A generous offer, Lord de Rievaulx.  And tempting, but I have yet to see any of the city.  I hoped to visit the Grande _Cathédrale_ , of course, and the University.”

“Ah, but I can arrange that.  I’ve attended lectures at the University.  I’m afraid I’m a secret scholar.”  Lord Denis grinned. 

_Maker, could they have picked a more appealing match for Lys?_

“What did you study?”

“Some mathematics and history.  An odd combination, but those are my interests.”

“Do you enjoy music?”

“Ah, but of course.  Singing, playing the lute.”  He laughed.  “As a young boy I hoped to become a minstrel.  Father did not approve, but did indulge me with music instruction.”  He took a drink from his wine glass.   “But we digress.  I can take you on a tour or the city.  We can end with dinner at my town house.  If you like, you can spend the night and we can go to the manor the following day.  Can your king do without you for two or three days?”

Empress Celene touched Bryce’s arm.

“Teyrn Cousland, did I hear Denis offer you a tour of the city?  You must go, of course.  And visit his country manor.  This is your first visit to our country.  You must see it, so you may take back good reports.”

Celene turned to Cailan.  “Your Majesty, you can do without Teyrn Cousland for a few days, yes?”

Cailan leaned forward.  “And where will you be, Bryce?”

“Seigneur de Rievaulx has offered to take me on a tour of the city and the country side around his manor.”

Cailan grinned.  “Ah, then I can approve.  I don’t want Teyrna Eleanor accusing me of debauching you.”

Bryce raised an eyebrow.  “I think that unlikely, Your Majesty.”

Cailan’s grin widened.  “Go.  You can meet with the Minister about mining when you return.”

“Thank you, Your Radiance.  Your Majesty.  I do look forward to getting to know Orlais better.”

“So that’s settled?”

“It appears so, Lord de Rievaulx.”

“Then I’ll meet you in the morning.  We’ll ride.  I’ll have a mount with me.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lord de Rievaulx insisted that he meet Bryce quite early and visit the _Grande_ _Cathédrale_ just after sunrise.  He did not explain why.  When the two men arrived at the _Cathédrale_ , Lord Denis, as the young man insisted Bryce call him, led him directly through the nave and past the crossing to the choir.  As they passed through the stalls where the brothers and sisters sang the Chant, Bryce felt Andraste’s words surround him as he never had before.  He stopped in the center of the choir to listen, but Lord Denis urged him on.  In a moment he saw why.

With the Chant continuing to reverberate around and through him, he faced a wall of colored glass towering above him.  This end of the _Cathédrale_ faced east.  As the sun rose above the city roofs it illuminated the window from the top down, revealing each phase of Andraste’s story in turn.  He had never seen anything so beautiful.  

Lord de Rievaulx did not speak as Bryce watched the sun’s light illuminate more and more of the great window.  Ruby reds, citron yellows, emerald greens, royal purples and a variety of blues ranging from pale topaz to deep sapphire each changed from opaque to translucent as the sun rose higher.  The stone floor beneath them reflected the colors until he felt surrounded by sound, color and light.   This was an experience he wanted to share with those he loved.  He felt Eleanor’s absence more than ever standing before this great window listening to sounds of the Chant.

The two men stood silently until the long after the sun had completed its illumination of the window.

“Thank you, Lord Denis,” Bryce whispered.  “This…I have no words for magnificence.”  He chuckled quietly,  “Although, I must admit surprise that no one else is here to appreciate it.”  Bryce’s eyes narrowed.  “Was that arranged?”

“No!  No, it’s taken for granted, I’m afraid.  It’s only a few travelers who rise early, discover it and stand in awe.  I discovered it by accident that way, myself, arriving early one day on my first visit without my parents.  I decided I would get up early and explore the city.  I just happened to arrive at the right moment.  Ever since, I’ve wondered the same thing, but when I mentioned it I only received shrugs.  I never tire of seeing it.  I’m glad to share it.”

The two men took a more leisurely tour on the way out, looking up at the ceiling arching above them.  Part of the _Cathédrale_ , the newer section where they stood, had stone vaulted ceilings which continued through the choir to the dome at the crossing.  The transept arms extending north and south from the crossing were also vaulted in stone, but the more ancient nave retained its wooden beams and painted ceiling. 

Carvings of common folk, outlandish demons and imaginary creatures graced the corbels supporting the upper arches, decorated choir stall arms, appeared under the choir seats and adorned column capitals.  Foxes, birds and other animals peered out from vine covered capitals.  Bryce found the carvings both beautiful and amusing.  He assumed the carvers must have copied the faces of each other and their fellow townsfolk, when they were not creating fantastical creatures.  Common faces depicted the butcher, the goodwife, the merchant, the neighbor with a toothache and the elven servant.  They congregated along the base of the second story arcade at each corbel and again under the clerestory which formed the third story.  Even the point where the ceiling arches converged held decorative sculpture.  One visit did not do the vast _Cathédrale_ justice.  

They ended their visit by climbing the north tower at the _Cathédrale’s_ west end.  Val Royeaux spread out before them.  Lord Denis gave Bryce a visual tour, pointing out not only the major landmarks, but the neighborhoods and the countryside beyond the wall.  The University buildings created a walled compound to the northwest.  The palace grounds, also walled, lay just below the north tower on which they stood.  To the east, the White Spire rose.  The Circle compound also had its encircling wall.

The Chantry’s Val Royeaux compound spread out around the _Cathédrale_.  A cloister surrounded a courtyard to the south.  Beyond that ranges of buildings provided further housing for the Divine’s Household, the Templars, the Knight-Vigilant, the Knights-Divine, the order of Seekers and sundry other Chantry operatives.  Lord Denis mentioned that the Chantry had a large monastery just outside the city where the brothers and sisters farmed, ran a dairy and provided much of the food and drink required by the compound’s inhabitants.

To his surprise and chagrin, Bryce enjoyed the young Orlesian lord’s company over the next two days.  Lord de Rievaulx exhibited none of the patronizing, haughty condescension he had experienced from many Orlesian nobles.  The heir to an old title in Lydes, the young nobleman lived in Val Royeaux while his father remained on the manor.  He represented the family’s interests at Court, attended University lectures, hunted and entertained on his estate and managed his own lands there.   The extensive Lydes lands, still under his father’s management, included potentially rich ore and gem deposits in the Frostback foothills south of Lydes.  Young Lord Denis spoke knowledgeably of the terrain and sought to learn more from Bryce. 

When they visited the great University, Denis familiarity with the lecturers and buildings made it clear he had been truthful about his attendance.  Of course, he could have been prepared before Bryce’s arrival, but Bryce considered it unlikely.   What did cause disquiet was how well they must know Lys, to choose such a good match.   He had no doubt his daughter would like this man.

**9:29 Dragon   Justinian  === _Calenhad’s Ghost_ sailing east on the Waking Sea**

_Calenhad’s Ghost_ sailed east, passing just north of Jader, on its way home from Val Royeaux.  The visit had gone better and worse than Bryce had expected.  There had been no policy surprises.  Chancellor Guerrin and King Cailan had signed the agreement opening an Orlesian trading compound in Redcliffe.  Bryce remained concerned about the open travel, but did not speak of it.  The mining agreements had been drawn up and signed.  Highever would provide mining expertise to Orlais over the next year.  A review and renewal of the agreement would occur during next year’s visit.   The existing trading compounds in Amaranthine, Highever and Denerim would continue with their current privileges.  The two young lords would visit Highever for Satinalia to court their prospective brides.  All agreed that marriage contracts could be drawn up after the visit.  The marriages would happen on First Day in Highever.

On the positive side, Empress Celene had not mentioned Queen Anora or Crown Princess Elin in any but the most complimentary ways.  No suggestions to set Anora aside and no requests to betroth or foster Princess Elin in Orlais had been voiced.

 _I would remain wary_ , Bryce Cousland had advised. _She may simply wait until the princess is older and of an age for fostering.  The same may be true for a betrothal._ Cailan had agreed, appreciating the reasoned advice of the Teyrn.  Eamon, on the other hand, had switched to a new suggestion.  He invited Queen Anora and Princess Elin to visit the Malvoix family in Val Chevin with Isolde.  He and Cailan had been arguing ever since. 

Given the tense atmosphere between the king and his Chancellor, Cailan and Bryce agreed any visit to Cumberland would have to come later.  In the meantime, Bryce could pursue discussions unofficially.

Cailan met with Empress Celene almost daily, but Teyrn Cousland only met her during several formal audiences, the welcome dinner and a grand farewell supper.  The Empress, young as she was, was impressive.  Her elven attendant, Briala, rumored to be her spymaster, was beautiful, enigmatic and completely unlike the Empress’ other Ladies-in-Waiting.  Bryce recalled discussing both with Maric years ago. 

He shook his head regretting things left undone when Maric died.  _We never did arrange the surveillance we thought necessary.  So many mistakes, omissions and oversights.  What would Maric think of us?_ He leaned farther over the rail.  _What will Lys think of me?_ He laughed ruefully. _Lys?  What will Eleanor think?  Maybe I should have just said no, as Howe did.  At least I left it open.  Anora disapproves.  Lys may be able to decline and stay with the Queen._

Bryce swore to himself that Eleanor would accompany him next time.  He laughed, but then of course she would if Lys had married Lord de Rievaulx by then.  For better or worse, the next year would be full of change.  Raised voices interrupted his thoughts.

“No, Eamon I don’t agree.”

Eamon had seriously overstepped his official purview when he upbraided Cailan for his outright refusal to allow Princess Elin to embark on an extended visit to Val Royeaux accompanied by her Aunt Isolde.  Once on board ship, Eamon did not stop importuning the King.  Again he suggested Cailan consider setting Anora aside.

Cailan rolled his eyes.  _Back to setting Anora aside.  Will he not learn. Even the Orlesians has not raised it during his visit._   “I have a wife, Eamon.  We have a child.  Ferelden has a Queen and Crown Princess.  The people, the Bannorn and the nobles all love the queen and the princess.  They’re more popular than I am.”  He glared at the Arl.  “Why would you raise this?  Even the Empress has dropped it and any suggestions that Princess Elin be fostered in Orlais.

“Cailan, I don’t suggest you set the Crown Princess aside.  I only speak of Anora.  We’ll worry about succession later.  The eldest doesn’t have to succeed you.  You need a noble wife who will bear noble children.”

I have a _noble_ wife, Eamon.  The daughter of a Teyrn.  Our daughter is a Crown Princess.” 

Eamon sniffed.  “A puffed up farmer raised above his meagre station.  Anora is…for want of a better word, common.”

Cailan glared.  “The  Teyrn of Gwaren,  my father’s friend, earned his rewards.  Loghain’s father was knight who fought with King Brandel at Lothering.  Loghain led Ferelden to glorious victory against the Orlesians.  _Your father and sister held him in high regard_.  I have my differences with Loghain, but he is Teyrn of Gwaren and general of Ferelden’s forces. 

“And Anora?  Common?  She’s as common as Andraste’s Grace in Firstfall or a rose in Haring.  Have you looked at _your_ wife Eamon.  The shrill, screaming , woman who beats children?”

“Beats children?  Cailan you insult my wife who comes from a noble Orlesian family.”

“Really?  I saw Alistair beaten at Isolde’s command.”

Eamon paled.  He had not realized Cailan had witnessed that unfortunate error on Isolde’s part.  _Not that the boy didn't deserve it, but it should not have been done when others could see._

“Eamon,” Cailan continued.  “Your wife comes from a minor branch of an unimportant family.  They descend from a younger son’s youngest son’s daughter.  That daughter married a merchant to keep the family farmhold.  That merchant was Isolde’s grandfather.  He restored the family fortunes.  Her father became a chevalier, managed to make several strategic friendships and performed a few heroic deeds during the Occupation.  Orlais rewarded him with Redcliffe Castle, _if_ he could keep it.  Several other chevaliers had refused the honor, since the arling came with so little land and no purpose.  A border stronghold is unnecessary when there is no border.

“Lord Malvoix failed and you won it back.  Isolde became his new bargaining chip.  The estate in Val Chevin?  Conferred on him by Emperor Florian as a reward when Isolde became betrothed to you.  The ancestral estate near Montsimmard?  A modest farmhold with a ruined Keep and a large farmhouse.  Isolde’s mother’s family?  Minor nobility in Val Chevin.”

“You make this up.”

“No Eamon, I repeat intelligence.  And you overstep.  My parents, both of them, had her investigated when you asked to marry.  I found the report.  It’s all true.  Father and Mother knew it and kept you at a distance.  They tried to block the marriage.  He finally gave in.  I suppose he became convinced she would do no harm.  He finally removed Alistair from your guardianship because of her. 

“I allowed you to become my advisor because I wanted to develop friendly relations with Orlais.  I respected your political acumen.  I trusted you as my uncle.  Teyrn Cousland had opposed me and Loghain left.  You seemed a better choice than Howe.  I still think you were.  Teyrn Cousland, however, should have also been at my side from the start, but you opposed that didn’t you?  Loghain and Anora advised me to reconcile with Teyrn Bryce, but you said no and I took your advice.”

Cailan stepped back and crossed his arms.  “I’m rejecting your advice now.  I will not give Ferelden back to Orlais.  Nor will I make an enemy of Orlais.  While I consider our disputes with Orlais a thing of the past, I will not surrender Ferelden to Orlesian control.  We will coexist, as separate nations.  Empress Celene in Orlais; Anora and I in Ferelden.  Perhaps there will be noble marriages, but there will be no royal one.  Not me.  Not Elin.  Nor will my daughter or any other child of mine be fostered by Orlesians.”

Placing his hand on his chest Eamon said, “I cannot remain your  Chancellor if you insist on insulting my family and refusing my advice.”

“Eamon, being Chancellor means you advise me.  It does not mean we will always agree.  I suggest you return to Redcliffe for a time to think.  I understand its defenses need updating.  Certainly establishment of the trading compound should be overseen  Ferelden needs a stronghold near the Orlesian border.  Perhaps you should focus on that for a while.  You should be prepared if the darkspawn threat becomes worse.”

Eamon stood frozen, his features becoming pale.  His hand remained on his chest, unmoving.  “You’re accepting my resignation?”

“No, not yet.  We both need time to think.  I am suggesting you take some time to recover from our travels.  Think about the policies I propose.  _Remind yourself who is king._   Return for the Landsmeet.  We’ll meet again then and decide how we proceed.”  Cailan spoke dismissively as he turned to join Teyrn Cousland and Arl Broughten at the opposite rail.

“Your Majesty, -

“-Eamon, our conversation is finished.  Teyrn Cousland can advise me on diplomatic matters as Foreign Minister.  Loghain can see to our armies.  Leave Teagan in Denerim if you wish.  He and Howe can advise me in your absence.  I’m sure Teagan will represent your interests.”

**9:29 Dragon  Justinian === Royal Palace, Val Royeaux**

The panel slid open.  Briala entered the imperial apartment.

“Your Radiance, _bon soir_.”

Empress Celene looked up from her reading.  “Briala.  Our guests have departed?”

“On the evening tide, yes.”

“A successful visit I think?”

“We achieved all our goals.  The Redcliffe Trade Compound will allow us to penetrate all of Ferelden.  Perhaps find lost operatives and create new ones?”  Briala sat in a chair across from Celene.  “The mining agreement seems to benefit everyone.  The Lord Chamberlain and Grand Master both seem quite pleased.  The marriage contracts have been drafted.  King Cailan approved them.  They await the final approval of Teyrn Cousland and Arl Broughten.  Or, if we understand them correctly, the approval of their daughters.  That should happen after Satinalia.”

“A bizarre custom.  Do all Fereldan’s allow young noble women to pick their own husbands?”

“Not so much pick, as retain the right of refusal it seems.  Both men seem to think the girls will be won over.”

“So our young Lord de Rievaulx has captivated the teyrn?”

“To the Teyrn’s dismay, yes.”

“Dismay?”

“Yes.  He did not want to like Rievaulx, but he does.  A masterful choice.”

“Not so masterful.  How many Orlesian lords would share the Couslands’ beliefs?  We know the family respects knowledge, creates wealth from their holdings, thinks trade brings peace and believes fair treatment of their subjects enriches everyone.  Lydes has those unusual views and has passed them to his son.  It worked out better than I expected.”

“Teyrn Cousland knew we observed him, but we still managed to overhear a few discussions between him and Arl Broughten.  They will suggest to their wives and daughters that the betrothals be announced during the Satinalia visit and that the marriages follow on Summerday in Highever, as we wished.  Apparently the Couslands have entertained the king at Summerday many times.   They hope you will attend and go on to visit King Cailan in Denerim.”

“That…would be possible.   I like that idea, Briala.   We will get to meet the little Princess.”  Celene smiled.   “Perhaps I can convince her mother I mean them no harm.”

“Queen Anora will not convince easily.”

“No, but I enjoy a challenge, Briala.  I shall have to be quite convincing.”   Celene stood and untied the belt that held her robe closed.  She put her hands on the arm of the chair and leaned over Briala.  “Perhaps _we_ shall have to be convincing, _chérie.”_

* * *

 

 

 [17]  Heraldic position.  Sitting on its haunches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. A long chapter, but I did not want to break it up into two. I hope my intrigue is not too convoluted. Sometimes it sounds better in my head. I couldn’t resist introducing Celene and Briala. We’ll see how far off I am in April when the new book comes out. The next chapter will move on to other events of 9:29 Dragon. 
> 
> Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome comments, encouragement, suggestions and critiques. I hope you continue to read and enjoy.
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eyes. Her astute comments improve every post. Any errors are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. Special thanks to those who Reviewed: Arsinoe de Blassenville, Mike3207,caraine, and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. Knowing you enjoy the story inspires me.


	54. I Shall Not Be Left to Wander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:29 Dragon Justinian - Denerim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

"Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…"  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 54: I SHALL NOT BE LEFT TO WANDER**

* * *

_I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond.  
_ _For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light  
_ _And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost.  
_ _Trials 1:14_  

**9:29 Dragon  25 Justinian  ===  Royal Palace Denerim**

Teyrn Loghain’s head ached.  Again.  The supply of potions Anora had acquired from Paul, the Court Mage, diminished daily.  He had refused to be examined by the mage, but accepted the potions when Anora insisted.

Loghain sat on a bench beneath a fine copper beech in this less frequented section of the garden.  Around his sanctuary taller, denser plants screened his bench from the more open gardens to the east between the two wings of the palace. _Out of sight of the windows.  Perhaps no one will bother me._ Here there were no blooms to admire or ponds with inviting grassy verges.  These plantings, near the west wall, screened the formal garden from the utilitarian kitchen and herb gardens to the south.  He  pulled a vial from his pocket and quaffed a potion.

_I think I’ll return to Gwaren after this damn Tourney is over.  Perhaps see how the Shield troops fare at Ostagar before I return.  The wardens there bear watching now that Fergus has gone home.  Maybe I should leave now and not go to the Tourney.  Howe left for Amaranthine today to avoid it.  He hates the Wardens too._

Leaning his back against the tree trunk, Loghain’s eyes closed as he waited for the pain to recede.  Rendon Howe, alone among the nobility, gave credence to his complaints about Cailan’s agreements with the Orlesians.  The mining agreements which seemed to favor Highever were Rendon’s main complaint.  Loghain worried about another trading compound, this time in the heartland of Ferelden, in Redcliffe.  

Even worse, from the Redcliffe compound, the Orlesian merchants could travel throughout the Bannorn.  At least the merchants in Amaranthine, Higheverport and Denerim could not leave their respective cities without a pass.  Now Orlesian were free to ramble throughout the land.  _Well, not in Gwaren_.  Cailan had the sense not to allow that, but everywhere else _.  We’ll have to be vigilant in Gwaren.  They’ll try to sneak through._   

But _Bryce! How had he allowed this to happen?  He seems to have Cailan’s ear, yet we’ll have Orlesians roaming the land._ Loghain had expected better from his old friend.

He knew Eamon would favor Orlais.  Even Arl Broughten complied too easily with Cailan’s, really Eamon’s, suggestions.  He had not expected acquiescence from Bryce Cousland.  He expected Bryce to temper Cailan’s foolishness, not abet it.  _The lure of returning to power has colored Bryce’s common sense._   Arl Howe had said as much, when they learned Teyrn Cousland would accompany Cailan to Orlais, but Loghain had not believed him.  He thought Howe’s suspicions grew out of jealously at Bryce’s return to favor.  _It seems Howe knew better than I_.  _He said Bryce could not be trusted_.  _That he entertained the Orlesians at the trading compound in Higheverport in Castle Cousland.  That he lusted after Orlesian livres and a return to Court in Denerim.  Howe even claims he’ll marry Lys to an Orlesian nobleman._ Howe told Loghain about Cailan’s suggestion that Delilah find a marriage in Orlais.  Howe had refused, but thought both Bryce and Philip Broughten had agreed.  

_Lys won’t stand for an Orlesian match._   Then he thought about Anora and realized Lys would do whatever she understood her duty to be, just as Anora had.  

Then Bryce had made the agreement to provide mining expertise.  _More Orlesian gold for Highever.  So much for the Cousland alliance with Nevarra_. He had argued with Anora about the mining contracts.  She believed that providing mining expertise helped Nevarra by diverting Orlais from its repeated attempts to retake the Blasted Hills.  If Orlais had its own sources of ore and mineral wealth, they would not need to retake Nevarran territory.  Loghain thought Orlais would try to find new sources of ore and continue to harry Nevarra and the Blasted Hills mines.  Anora had shrugged _.  If they have their own supply, they will covet our mineral wealth less_ , she had replied.  _There are markets a plenty.  It can only help Ferelden and Nevarra._ Loghain shook his head recalling conversations with Fergus at Ostagar.  _His argument was similar to Anora’s_. _I should talk to Fergus._ _Get his opinion before I condemn Bryce_.  Better to listen to Fergus and Anora than Howe.  

After the trip, Eamon had returned to Redcliffe, not Denerim.  Cailan swore he was still Chancellor.  It was not Eamon, however, who would arrive at Court in a week or two, it was Bryce Cousland, King Cailan’s new Foreign Minister.  Eamon’s star seemed to be waning as Bryce’s rose.  _I should feel pleased at Eamon’s demise, if that’s what this is. Bryce is not Eamon, but he does want to return to favor. What will he pay?  Eamon massaged his temples.  This is Bryce. I should welcome him to Court.  We can join together to advise Cailan as we did Maric._ Loghain sat up, his head clearing.  The potion was working.  _I need to wait and see what Bryce does.  How his influence affects Cailan.  He may want to return to favor, but not at Ferelden’s expense.  Howe’s wrong.  He must be.  Cailan right in choosing Bryce over Eamon.  That must be good._     

Now he had to attend the Maker benighted Grey Warden Tourney at the Denerim Tourney Grounds.  He had argued with Cailan about that.  _Let the Chantry sponsor it, but why attend and confer Royal approval?_   Somehow, the Warden Commander had convinced almost every noble and powerful bann to sponsor a tourney to provide Grey Warden recruits.  The Chantry would be the final one this year unless Bryce sponsored one in Highever.  Duncan had walked away from each tourney with at least one recruit.  

Loghain found it odd that the number of Fereldan wardens did not seem to increase.  The number remained at two score; the faces barely changed at the warden compound.  He had been to Ostagar once in the spring.  Few new Fereldan faces had greeted him there.  Most of the Wardens were ones he had met before.  He had begun to wonder what happened to the recruits.  That had caused his most recent argument with Cailan.

“Loghain, not all Duncan’s recruits stay in Denerim.  Some go to Ostagar.  Others patrol along the eastern and western boundaries of the Wilds.  Some older wardens get sent to other posts.  You should be happy when Duncan sends Orlesian wardens to Montsimmard!”

“Do you have a roster of all the Grey Wardens in Ferelden?”

“No, Loghain, nor will I request one.  That is Grey Warden business.  I admit, they are a secretive organization, but they are not a subversive one.  Maker’s Hairy Toes, Orlais does not control them!”

“Perhaps Duncan sends the new recruits to Orlais for…” he wanted to say indoctrination, but did not. “  …training.”

Cailan sighed.  “Perhaps he does, but I don’t think so.  We have observers on the roads now, as you suggested after those chevaliers got through.  We’ve only seen a few Orlesian wardens heading home.  That Warden, Riordan, visits occasionally, but not surreptitiously.  He’s not brought chevaliers with him again.  You worry unnecessarily Loghain.”

“And you trust too easily, Your Majesty.”

Cailan sighed.  “Do you have any business to discuss Loghain or have you simply come to annoy me?”

Loghain’s eyes narrowed.  “I’m sorry my concerns for the safety of your Kingdom annoy you, Cailan.  I’ll take my leave.”

Loghain had bowed, turned on his heel and left.  

Loghain sat up, his headache mostly gone.  He seemed to argue with everyone lately.  He would probably argue with Bryce when he arrived.     _Maker, I need to go to Gwaren and get away from this damn city._

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Cailan rubbed his neck and watched Loghain stalk away.  _His paranoia hos gotten out of hand.  What will he think when the Wardens take Alistair?_ Cailan leaned back in his chair.  _The wardens will keep him here.  That’s why we want him out of Chantry hands, to keep him safe and in Ferelden._   He frowned, anticipating Loghain’s counter arguments. _Perhaps I should ask where Alistair will serve._

 “King Cailan!”  Duncan inclined his head.  “Checking up on our preparations for the Tourney?”

“I’m sure you have it well in hand, Duncan.  No, I had a question, that’s all.  Can we speak in your study?”

Duncan closed the door behind them....  He motioned Cailan to a comfortable chair in front of his desk.  He took the one beside it.

“What’s on your mind Your Majesty?”

“Alistair.  Have you insured you will be able to recruit him?”

“I have, Your Majesty.  He’s been punished, as I think you know, for bad behavior at Dragon’s Peak.  Diminished in rank and sent to work in the Armory.  He does not spar with the other initiates.  He only teaches pages and first year initiates.  As such, he can probably not win the tournament.  He’s out of practice and out of shape.  I know his potential.  I saw him spar at Kinloch Hold.  He used to be very good.  He can be again.   I had good reports of his character, when he was younger.  He seems to have fallen off the path after I saw him at Kinloch Hold.  He is a good candidate.”

“So, if he is not the winner?”

“The Chantry agreed that I could take two recruits.  The winner and one other.  The other will be Alistair.  If he is such a problem, perhaps they won’t care if he leaves.”  _Assuming they don’t care who he is._

“And if they do care?  The Grand Cleric is aware of his parentage, Duncan.”

The Warden Commander raised his eyebrows at the news.  “Then I can conscript him.  It’s not a method I use often, but it is available to me.”

“Good.  I will approve.  Grand Cleric Elemena will have to agree.  Even the Chantry recognizes the rights and privileges of the Grey Wardens.”

“That they do, Your Majesty.”

“Then what happens, Duncan.  Is there a ceremony of some sort?  I wondered if I could attend?”

Duncan rubbed his beard.  “There is an initiation, Your Majesty, but its content is a Grey Warden secret I’m afraid.  I have two recruits here already.  Once Alistair and the winner join us, we’ll spend some time training the recruits here and then head towards Ostagar.  I expect the initiation to happen there.  We prefer the recruits get introduced to fighting darkspawn as soon as possible.”

“I see.”  Cailan frowned.

“Your Majesty, it might be best if you do not see the boy right away.  Undue attention from you, the Queen or Teyrn Loghain might give away his…unusual status.”

“You’re right, of course, Duncan, but I visit here regularly.  Are you saying I should stop?  I would treat him as I do any other warden.”

“There is the issue of his resemblance to you.”

“Ah.  That could be a problem.  I see.”  He stretched his legs out and grasped the arms of the chair.  “So, I should probably stay away for a while.”

“At least until he leaves for Ostagar.”  

“And after Ostagar?  Will you keep him there, or will he return to Denerim?”

Duncan shifted in his seat.  He did not want to anger the king or coddle the boy, but perhaps some special attention to Alistair was warranted.  “He will stay with me.  He will need time to adjust.  I plan on giving him some personal attention.  Make sure he does not resume his troublesome ways.  I saw his spirit at Kinloch Hold, but it needs constraining or he will continue to get in trouble.  He must learn to curb his tongue and measure his actions.  I thought perhaps I might make him a squire to me.  I don’t usually have one, but in his case, it seems appropriate.  He knows how to care for arms and armor.  I can enforce discipline as needed.”  Duncan sat quietly waiting for the king’s response.  Cailan could be mercurial when thwarted.

Cailan frowned, staring at his boots.  “I’d hoped to establish some connection with him, but you make good points.  He’s to be a warden and have an illustrious future.  He should be able to settle in here without interference from his past.” He looked up.  “What a magnificent chance for him.  I won’t ruin it.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.  I think that’s the wisest path.  Perhaps later….”

“Yes, once he’s established I can meet with him.  I would like him to understand I wanted this for him.  That at least I got him away from the Chantry.  I’m afraid he believes we all abandoned him.  I’d like him to know we didn’t.   Not completely. Thank you, Duncan.  I know he’ll prove himself valuable to the Wardens.”   

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“Have you decided to attend the Tourney tomorrow, My Lady?”  Kai knew Lys had mixed feelings about seeing her childhood friend after so many years.  She watched as Lys somewhat dejectedly paw through her gowns.  

“I must.  The Queen and King will attend, so we must all follow.”  Lys pulled out a dark plum colored overdress.  I think this will do.  I’ll wear the deep green tunic, the green and silver head piece with a veil and the black Antivan leather boots, I think.  The Tourney Grounds will be too messy for fine shoes.

“That looks like mourning, Lys.  Not quite purple and black, but very close.”

“Exactly.”

Kai frowned, not following, but Lys did not explain.  

“Will I attend you there?  The tourney might be interesting.  I’ve never seen templars fight.  It doesn’t seem they would need to be very skilled against mages.  They have other talents they use, don’t’ they?”

“They can be fearsome fighters, but they do have other skills.  The darkspawn have magic, too.  Papa sent mages to Maric’s Shield at Ostagar to use against the darkspawn.  A few Highever templars went along.  The templar skills worked on the darkspawn mages, Fergus said.  That impressed the Warden Commander.  Fergus thought he might recruit a templar from Highever.  He has a few mage wardens, but no templar wardens.  Probably the Warden Commander decided to go directly to the Chantry instead.  He asked for the Tourney, just as he has with all the banns and nobles.  I’m not sure winning a place with the Wardens is such a great prize though.”

“I thought you respected the Wardens.”  _Ah, now we get to it I hope._

“I…do.  I respect what they do, what they must do.  Wardens have a lot of secrets.  Some are there for the finding in old books and records.”  _Well, they are if you can go to the library in Areth_.

“And you’re not going to tell me?”

“I…their initiation can be dangerous.  They don’t tell their recruits that.  The recruits don’t learn the secrets until after they join.  I understand why they do it, but I still don’t like it.”

“So any templar can participate in this tourney?”

“No.  The tourney will feature initiates, the templars who are about to take vows.  I guess it’s to be quite the event.  Templars and the Chantry honoring the Grey Wardens.  The Grand Cleric and Knight-Commander will join the King and Queen in the Royal box.  Should be entertaining, yes?”

“I suppose.  Will I attend you?”

“Of course.  Wear your tabard and cloak.”  She looked at Sherpa who wagged her stump.  She rolled her eyes.  “Maker!  Bring Sherpa, too.”

Kai scratched Sherpa’s shoulders.  “Success, girl,” she whispered as Lys shook her head.

**9:29 Dragon 26 Justinian  ===  Denerim Tourney Grounds**

“What’s he doing here?”  Ser Eryhn scowled at the templar initiate wearing well-worn armor and carry a battered sword and shield.  “Surely he’s not fighting.  He doesn’t even spar with pages.” 

Ser Eryhn believed she could win this Tourney, escape the Templars and become a Grey Warden.  She had begged the Knight-Captain to postpone her vows until after the Tourney.  He had agreed, but allowed her to go through the ceremony making her a knight.  .

As a Chantry orphan in Highever Eryhn thought that becoming a templar would allow her to serve Andraste in her own way.  She had no wish to be a priest.  She wanted to fight, to protect worthy mages, bring apostates into the security provided by the Circle of Magi and rid the world of maleficarum.  She believed becoming a templar, even though there were few women in their ranks, would let her pursue her dreams.  Then she left Highever and found the world of templars and mages in the rest of Ferelden a very different, more brutal place.  Becoming a grey warden seemed to offer a way out. 

Sers Kalvin and Talrew looked towards the initiate Ser Eryhn singled out.   

“Who is he?”  Ser Kalvin, a Denerim templar asked.  “I don’t recognize him.” 

“You wouldn’t,” Eryhn replied.  “He came here from Dragon’s Peak a year ago as a punishment case.  He lives in the armory and works there for Master Quenton.  He sometimes instructs the older pages and first year initiates in forms.  Can you imagine, failing so badly at Dragon’s Peak that they send you away!”  She snickered.  

“You’ve never seen him fight?”

“No.  He’s not permitted to spar with us.  Perhaps he’s here as a joke.  A clown to entertain the crowds between bouts.”

“I’ll try not to hurt him should I face him,” Ser Talrew said, “but If he’s as hapless as you say, we won’t meet him.

“Well, when we meet I will best you both.”  Eryhn smiled.  “I intend the winner to be me.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

A few days earlier, Knight-Captain Cynan had echoed Eryhn’s remarks to Arms Master Quenton when he learned Alistair would fight.  “That boy cannot fight.”

“The Warden Commander requested him.”  Quenton replied.  “He saw him instructing the pages and requested he be part of the tourney.  I suggest you take your objections to him.”   Quenton nodded towards the Warden Commander standing nearby.

The Knight-Captain left Quenton to his duties and strode towards the Warden Commander.  Duncan had overhead Cynan’s objections.

“I disagree, Knight-Captain,” Duncan announced as Cyan approached him.  He had expected objections to Alistair’s participation.  “I have seen him fight.  He may be out of practice and lack endurance, but that can be remedied with training.”

“Seen him fight?  With some silly noble at Dragon’s Peak?”

“No.  A full templar at Kinloch Hold.  Alistair won.”

“Was the templar ill?”

“No.  The boy won with his skill and strength, which is why I want to see him fight here.”

Knight-Captain Cynan glared at Duncan, “I thought you wanted the Tourney to recruit talented templars.  To get something better than cutpurses and thieves?”  When Duncan did not respond, he shrugged, then smiled.  “He’ll not win.  Let him make a fool of himself.  I’ll send armor and weapons to his room.”   

“Thank you, Knight Captain.”  Duncan and Quenton exchanged looks as Cynan marched away.  

“Better let him wear the armor Cynan provides, however, poor the quality.  I can only push the Knight–Captain so far,”  Quenton said.  “if he makes it through the first day, I’ll have him in decent own armor for the semi-final bout.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Queen Anora, King Cailan and their attendants arrived at the Tourney grounds shortly before the first bout.  Grand Cleric Elemena, Knight-Captain Cynan and Knight-Commander Greagoir stood as the royals entered.  King Cailan sat in the center with Queen Anora to his right.  Knight Commander Greagoir sat to the King’s left separated from him by an empty chair.  Arl Kendalls and Grand Cleric Elemena sat to the Queen’s right.  Anora’ three Ladies sat behind her in the second row of seats.  Knight-Captain Cynan sat at the end of the second row behind the Grand Cleric.  A chair at the other end of the second row remained empty.  Behind them servants in various liveries sat or arranged refreshments.  

The Royal box extended into the Grounds beyond the boxes to either side.  The wooden roof protected the occupants from sun and rain, but the open front and sides allowed cooling breezes in.  Wide at the front, the wedge-shaped box narrowed towards the rear. Full partitions began part way along the side of the box and afforded privacy from the adjoining boxes.  Benches in the back allowed the servants and lesser retainers to sit until they were needed.

Knight-Commander Greagoir had arrived from Kinloch Hold a few days earlier, bringing with him several initiates from other templar monasteries.  He and the Grand Cleric agreed this might stave off further requests for recruits.    

Greagoir also hoped to come to some agreement regarding the Warden Commander’s request for mage recruits.  Grand Cleric Elemena disapproved of allowing mages to be recruited.  If the wardens required mages, a contingent could be sent from Kinloch Hold under templar guard she reasoned.  They could remain for the duration of a battle and then return to the Tower.  Greagoir and First Enchanter Irving had a more liberal view.  They believed two or three mages could be allowed to join the Wardens.  

The Grey Wardens had always used mages.  Greagoir saw no reason why the Fereldan wardens should have so few, particularly if templar wardens could watch over them.  Even without lyrium, the wardens with templar training had some power.  Magebane could be used for additional control.  A few warden mages could prove beneficial in the fight against darkspawn, as the Highever mages had shown.  If more were needed, they could be provided on a contingent basis, as Grand Cleric Elemena preferred.

Greagoir seated himself after the king and queen had settled in their chairs.  The chair next to King Cailan had been earmarked for Duncan who had yet to appear.  He had hoped to talk with Warden Commander prior to the tourney.  Their discussion would have to wait, he realized, as he saw the heralds advancing towards the royal box to declare the Tourney open.  As the Arl of Denerim rose to welcome the participants, the Crown, the Chantry, the Nobility and the commoners, Duncan slid into his seat next to Greagoir at the King’s left.

Behind the queen her Ladies Delilah, Philippa and Melysande sat quietly, watching for any signal from Queen Anora.  As Arl Kendalls announced the Tourney, Teyrn Loghain quietly slipped into the seat at the end of the row beside Lys.

“You realize Alistair might be fighting today.”  He had leaned close to her ear to whisper as Arl Kendalls continued to speak.  “I suspect Cailan helped engineer this tourney so Duncan could recruit him.”  

“Did he?  Why?  Does he think the Wardens better than the Chantry?”  Lys whispered back.

“Yes.  He’s desperate to get Alistair free of the Chantry.  I think the plan started when he was at Ostagar last winter. He’s had several private meetings with Duncan since then.”  

“He could acknowledge him.”  Lys’ tone betrayed her bitterness.

“No, he can’t.”

Lys eyes searched Loghain’s face.  “Just ignore her.  Others can attest to his parentage.”

“Lys, it’s not that simple.  Even I understand that.”  He nodded toward the Grand Cleric, then lowered his voice further.  “Cailan and Anora fear she’ll send Alistair to Orlais.  On this he and I agree.”

“He thinks the wardens will be better?”

“He does.  I’m not sure.  Orlais influences the wardens as well.  The wardens could just as easily send him across the border.”

“The wardens claim they owe allegiance to no state.  Perhaps they are less likely than the Chantry to bow to Orlais’ wishes, but that does not mean they would be better.”

Loghain blew a breath between pursed lips.  “Do you also believe babies can be found in cabbage patches?”

Lys stifled a smile.  “No, Your Grace.  I think Griffons bring them.”

He gave Lys an exasperated look, but the hint of a smile touched his lips.

“Orlais might be the least of our worries for him,” she continued.  “I don’t know whether to hope the Warden Commander selects him or not.”

“I thought you would want him free of the Chantry.”

She shrugged.  “Going from the Chantry to the Wardens will be like jumping from an iron pot to a copper one.  Both remain on the fire.”  

“But not because both bow to our Orlesian foes?”

“We don’t know that Orlais rules the Fereldan wardens.  Fergus believes they have too much influence certainly.”  She glanced at Pippa, but she was talking to Delilah and paying her no attention.  “No, I mean going from lyrium to…well the taint wardens take in to become what they are.”

“Taint?  No one lives if the darkspawn taint them.  At least not long.”  Loghain whispered.

“Partly true.”  She looked at Loghain, brow furrowed and lips pursed.  “I’ve read a lot about the wardens.  They’re very secretive, but much can be surmised from the histories and diaries.”  _Especially if one has access to the library in Areth._   Lys continued, “It’s kept secret, but every recruit must go through an initiation.  They drink a magical potion which gives those who survive it the power to fight the darkspawn without fear of taint.” _I need to tell him about the initiation so can find out if Alistair survives._

“Those who survive it?”

“Many don’t.  It’s a poison.  Some can resist it; others cannot.  Eventually, after years, the poison affects even those who resisted it at first.  Wardens then  go to the Deep Roads to die.  Their Calling, they name it.”   

“I’ve heard of that,” Loghain muttered, recalling what little Maric had eventually told him of his trip into the Deep Roads..

Lys looked out onto the grounds.  The first duel was about to begin.  “He could be dead in a few weeks.  At least as a templar he would have years.  On the other hand, as a warden he’ll be… if not happy… then less discontent.”  

“And perhaps I am wrong and he won’t even compete.  I only know that no one but Cailan and Duncan have seen him since he arrived in Denerim.  And then only from afar.  Either way he is lost to us.  I only hope he is not found by Orlais.”

“You speak of him as if he were a pawn, not a man.”  Lys hissed. 

Loghain regarded her dispassionately.  “He is a pawn Lys.  He became one when Maric and then Cailan failed to acknowledge him.  He’s a bastard with royal Theirin blood.  Ferelden needs to keep him away from Orlais, or any other power, and prevent him from breeding.”

“Did you never care for him?” Lys spoke between clenched teeth.

“I care, first, for Ferelden.”  He turned his attention to the competition and did not speak again.

Lys stared at Loghain, biting her lower lip.  _This is the man who told us stories.  Who apologized for taking him to Dragon’s Peak.  Was that all an act?  What’s changed?_

Loghain finally returned her stare.  He spoke dispassionately.  “He’ll be harder to track as a warden, but we will ensure he does not leave Ferelden.”

 Lys shivered, but did not ask how he would ensure that.  

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lys’ fascination with tourneys had ebbed as she grew older.  She realized that many successful combatants never saw battle outside the tourney grounds.  Being a successful tourneyer did not make one a formidable knight in battle.  Nor did it make one a good officer of the guard, leading troops against bandits.  Highever still held its Summerday Tourney, but Lys had not competed as she had once hoped to.  Nor did she attend the Grand Tourneys in Cumberland, although the fairs held outside the Tourney grounds still held some allure.

The two-day Chantry Tourney would include only Elimination Duels.  The Templars emphasized blade skills, so there would be no archery competition.  All the competitors were initiates.  Only two full templars would fight.  On the second day they would duel the four semi-finalists providing them one last opportunity to show their mettle before they fought each other in the final bouts.  On the first day, Sers Kalvin and Talrew sat on a bench below the Royal Box to view the competitions.  The sixteen initiates, nine from Denerim and seven from the outlying monasteries, fought their duels throughout the day.  The first round eliminated eight initiates.

After their whispered conversation at the Tourney’s start Lys and Loghain had not spoken.  The strained silence made her uncomfortable.  Alistair had won through to the second round.  She noticed Loghain lean forward when the templar in the battered armor walked onto the field.  

_Perhaps he does care a little._   

Alistair barely won in the second round.  When he did succeed in beating his opponent, he offered a hand to help him up.  The opponent batted it aside.  Lys realized Alistair must have made some cutting remark at the rejection when his opponent pushed him on the chest, then collected himself and stalked off the field.

“I’d love to know what he said,”  Loghain chuckled.  “They should take those damned tin pots off after the bout ends.”

Lys looked at Loghain.  “Perhaps they don’t want any resemblance to Cailan noticed.”

“Good point, Lady Cousland.”  He stared at the initiate.  “I do care, Lys,”  he said quietly.  “About him, but more about Ferelden.  I have always cared more about Ferelden, than about myself, my loved ones…I can’t change that.”

Lys nodded.  “I suppose it’s similar to a Cousland’s duty.  I’ve been fortunate enough never to have to make those hard choices.”

“I hope you remain so fortunate, Lys.”  Loghain looked at the young woman opposing Alistair.   Eryhn had taken her helmet off.  “That young woman opposing him in the next round is a fine warrior.  He’ll have trouble with her.”

“She’s Highever born.  I’ve seen her compete at home before she came to Denerim.  She’s skilled and quick.”

“Have you fought her?”

“No.  I never enter tourneys…well only once, as an archer.  I bested some poor boy who had traveled from near West Hill to compete.  I felt so guilty.  I convinced the judges to give him the award, saying I had only competed to test my skills, not, as the Teyrn’s daughter, to win.  After that, Fergus did the same.  I never competed again and he never took another purse.”

“How old were you?”

She blinked.  “Fourteen, I think.  Why?”

“If you ever have to make a hard choice Lys, know that you will make the right one.  The girl that did that will always chose the right path.”

“I…thank you, Teyrn Loghain.  I hope you’re right.”  

The Tourney officials escorted Alistair, his next opponent, Ser Eryhn, and the other two semi-finalists to the area in front of the Royal Box.  All the initiates removed their helmets and saluted, acknowledging the King, Queen, Warden-Commander, Arl, Grand Cleric and Knight-Commander.  They sat on the bench next to the two templars.  Knight-Commander Greagoir stood to speak.  

“Thank you, Arl Kendalls for sponsoring this Tourney in the Denerim Tourney Grounds.  The Chantry appreciates your support in allowing us to provide the Grey Wardens with a chance to increase their ranks.”  Greagoir nodded to the Arl and then to Duncan.  “We thank King Cailan and Queen Anora for their support and attendance.  It has been a thrilling day.  We have our semi-finalists.  Initiate Ser Eryhn, who recently received her knighthood; Initiate Alistair; Initiate Florian; and Initiate Diarmund.  ”  

The initiates stood, saluted the Royal Box again, and then turned around to wave to the spectators..  They had removed their helmets to salute the Royal Box occupants and all but Alistair held them beneath their arms as they turned back to the crowd.  Alistair put his back on.  

“Was he instructed to do that?,” Cailan asked Duncan.  

“I don’t think so, Your Majesty.”

The Knight-Commander continued.  “Today’s bouts now come to their end.  The Tourney will resume in the morning at Terce bells.  Before the semi-final bouts, the initiates will fight Ser Kalvin of Denerim, who uses dual blades, and Ser Talrew of Lothering, who wields a great sword.  Both Knights Templar will test the skills and endurance of the semi-finalists.  After their bouts with the Knights Templar, the eliminations will continue until we have a winner.”

**9:29 Dragon 27 Justinian  ===  Denerim Tourney Grounds**

Alistair appeared the next morning better equipped in newer armor and wielding a better-balanced sword and shield.  Arms Master Quenton had insisted he spend the last six weeks practicing in this armor and with these weapons.  Today he insisted Alistair wear them.  _As a semi- finalist he had the honor of the templars to uphold.  He should look the part,_ the Arms Master said when he objected.   

The armor, sword and shield felt comfortable and familiar.  Yesterday he had to fight in the ill-fitting, unfamiliar armor and with the lower quality weapons that the Knight-Captain had sent to his room.  Today he would have the benefit of more familiar, better quality equipment.  He hoped Arms Master Quenton would not get into trouble for providing it.  

Eryhn  looked at Alistair’s equipment in surprise.  

“Where did you steal that?”

“Steal?  What?  This armor?  The Armory sprite left it in my room for me.”  He grinned.  “My reward for getting to the third round I suppose.”

“Armory sprite?”

“Of course.  Haven’t you heard of her?  She sharpens weapons, cleans armor…you have to be on her good side.  Leave her ribbons and shiny things.  I thought everyone knew-

”-idiot.”  Eryhn snarled.  “How did you make it this far?”

“Ah…well the sprite-“

“-shut up.”

Alistair laughed.  “Ah, you lack a sense of humor, my lady.  The Highever folk I know had senses of humor.  Are you sure you’re from the Coastlands?”

“That’s enough, initiate.”

Alistair turned at the gruff voice.  Ser Talrew stood in the doorway.  “You won’t win any matches with your wit.”  He looked Alistair up and down.  “Your new weapons and armor may help though.”

“I hope so, Ser Talrew.  I find that if my sharp wit doesn’t make me the champion my sword and shield will.”

Ser Kalvin followed Ser Talrew into the tent at the end of the tourney grounds.  “Your bravado only make you look a fool initiate.”

Alistair stopped smiling.  “We’ll see when meet on the grounds, Ser Knights.  You may defeat me, but not because I fail to face you and do my best.  Success or failure will be mine, not my equipment’s.”  He turned on his heel and left the tent to sit on the bench outside.

The two knights looked at each other and shrugged.  Ser Eryhn glared at the tent flap.  Initiates Diarmund and Florian wisely kept quiet.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Ser Eryhn fought first.  She gave Ser Talrew a good fight, but fell to his strength and endurance.  He wielded his great sword as if it weighed nothing.  In Lothering he had battled many Chasind heretics in the Wilds as the templars sought their shamans.  His legendary skill and endurance overcame the young knight’s grace and speed.  Ser Kalvin, with whom Ser Eryhn had often sparred, did not fare so well.  Eryhn, after a long battle, defeated him. 

Initiate Diarmund fought next.  Fighting with dual blades, his reach and strength should have challenged Ser Talrew.  Instead, he did not take advantage of the large templars slower moves with his great sword.  He lacked the speed and agility one expected of a dual wielder.  He fared even worse against Ser Kalvin.   

“That templar is not quick enough to wield dual blades.  He should use a sword and shield,” Duncan murmured.  

“I agree, Duncan.  I’ll mention it to him, I assure you, “ the Knight Commander replied.

Initiate Florian, a great sword wielder, gave Ser Talrew a good fight, but eventually fell to the templars greater endurance.  As tired as Florian was, however, he managed to defeat Ser Kalvin.  

Loghain leaned close to Lys.  “Fighting last is not to Alistair’s benefit.”

“I know.  On the one hand, the two knights will be more tired.  On the other, Ser Eryhn will be well rested when they face each other.”

“I think Alistair may lack the endurance to get through three consecutive matches, even with a short rest before the final one.”

“I don’t know what to wish for.  Neither is for the best, the wardens are only better than the alternative.”  Lys smiled, but turned her attention back to the field as the two Knights Templar and Alistair appeared.

Alistair did not fare well against the templars.  He fell to the great sword of Ser Talrew after a valiant effort.  He did better against the dual blades of Ser Kalvin, but Kalvin eventually bested Alistair, as the initiate’s responses slowed.  His aching muscles simply could not maintain the speedy defensive moves necessary to block all Kalvin’s attacks.  Again, he yielded gracefully in spite of the boos and hoots of the crowd.  

Duncan noticed that the catcalls and derisive remarks originated in a single section of spectators.  From there the hissing and boos spread.  He felt sure someone from the Chantry had planted that group.  Alistair’s response impressed him.  The boy might be a prankster and troublemaker, but he had the makings of a good fighter.  His behavior towards his opponents was honorable.  Master Quenton had kept him under control, albeit through isolation which was not possible in the wardens.  With attention and discipline he believed he could make something of the boy.  For Fiona’s sake he would try.

A brief rest period followed Alistair’s final bout with Kalvin.  Then the semi-final bouts began.  Alistiar faced Eryhn, who had a lengthy pause during the other initiates’ bouts.  Following them Florian would fight Diarmund.  The Knight-Commander wanted the Tourney completed, the recruitment done and the grounds emptied well before the bells rang for Vespers.

Alistair tried to maintain his speed and power against Ser Eryhn, but his endurance simply was not up to two days of hard dueling.  Every move was a step too slow.  Ser Eryhn wore him down with small blows.  Finally he stumbled as he stepped forward to bash.  Eryhn, anticipating the move, stepped back.  He overbalanced and fell.  

“Yield,” Ser Eryhn yelled.

“I yield,” Alistair said.

He stood as she walked away to sit on the bench beneath the Royal box.  Shoulder slumped for the first time, he hesitated before following her.  _I should just leave the field.  There’s no hope the wardens will take the loser._ The he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and walked to the bench.   Boos followed him.  He sat at the end of bench, watching Florian and Diarmund take the field.

Diarmund’s lack of speed and agility again proved his downfall.  Florian repeated his defeat of a dual wielding opponent.  

After another half turn of the glass, Ser Eryhn and Initiate Florian returned to the grounds for the final bout.  Again, Ser Eryhn’s agility, grace and skill allowed her to win through.  She knew how to take advantage of the great sword wielder’s slower moves.    

Greagoir motioned them forward.  They saluted the king and queen, then stood before Duncan.

“Ser Eryhn, I offer you a place in the Grey Wardens.  You have shown great skill and honor.  Will you accept?”

“I do accept, Warden-Commander.”  Ser Eryhn smiled triumphantly raising her hands and turning to face the cheering crowd.

Alistair stood quietly to the side next to Initiate Diarmund, his helmet under his arm watching Eryhn and Florian.  He glanced up to find his brother watching him.  He nodded, then turned to walk away.  

“Initiate Alistair.”  Duncan’s words brought him up short and he turned to face the warden commander.  _Maker, what now.  I lost.  Just let me go back to the armory._

“Initiate Alistair, although you did not win you fought well and showed grace in defeat.  I know your capabilities.  I offer you a place in the Grey Wardens.  Will you accept?”

“Me?  I-“

“I will not allow this.”  Grand Cleric Elemena came to her feet projecting her opposition in her best pulpit voice.  

“The agreement was for two recruits of my choosing, Your Grace.”  Duncan spoke calmly.

“This initiate will not be taken.  I forbid it.”

“Then you leave me no choice.  Initiate Alistair I conscript you into the Grey Wardens.  You will accompany me-“

“-NO!  I. Will. Not. Allow. It!  He is the Chantry’s!  Choose one of the others.”

“I will allow it.”  Cailan spoke loudly for all to hear.  “Your Grace, you cannot oppose a conscription.  The Chantry recognizes the Grey Wardens right to conscription just as the Crown of every nation in Thedas does.  You cannot deny it.”

“I can and I will,” she countered her face flushed with anger.

Knight-Commander Greagoir had walked to the other side of the box to stand beside the Grand Cleric.  “Your Grace, the King is correct,” he whispered.  “We cannot oppose a conscription.  The Divine and the Knight-Vigilant both recognize its use.”

Elemena stared at Greagoir.  

“Your Grace,” Greagoir continued quietly, “Please, compose yourself.  We cannot oppose this.”

Elemena looked at the King and Queen, expecting smirks.  She saw two serious faces.  

Greagoir continued.  “ _Joining_ the Wardens is dangerous, Your Grace.”

She looked at Greagoir, understanding his meaning.  “It is, Knight-Commander.  Perhaps it’s for the best.”  Face still red, she nodded at Duncan and said no more.

Alistair simply stood in place and stared at the occupants of the Royal Box.  He recognized the King and Queen, of course.  He had met Duncan and the Knight-Commander at Kinloch Hold.  Once Greagoir moved to the Grand Cleric’s side, he saw Loghain who nodded to him.  Several young woman stood behind Duncan, Cailan and Anora.  He thought the one next to Loghain was Lys, but she wore a headpiece on her intricately braided dark hair and a veil covered her face.  _It must be._   He looked away.

Duncan had come down the steps to ground level.  He stood facing the Royal Box between the two recruits motioning for them to bow once again.  Then he turned them to face the cheers of the crowd again and the moment passed.  Duncan ushered his recruits off the field and the Tourney ended.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lys stood in her place watching Alistair walk away.  Delilah nudged her.  

“We’re leaving.”

“I’ll be along.  Go ahead without me.”  Lys murmured.

Delilah raised her eyebrows and started to object, but Pippa nodded.  

“It’s alright, Del, let her stay a moment with the Teyrn.”  

Delilah looked confusedly between the two friends. 

“Kai, stay with her?”

“Of course, My Lady.”

“He’s lost to us, Lys, “ Loghain said once the crowd cleared.  “We failed to act in time.  I can only hope this is the right choice.”

“Lost?  In the wardens we can see him.  He’s not locked away any longer.”

“Might as well be.  The warden compound is not open to everyone.  Best case, the boy remains in Ferelden.  Worst case, he’s sent to Montsimmard.  Either way, he’ll see it as an honorable escape and embrace it.  He’ll do as they tell him.  He’s not the boy you knew.’”

Loghain stared at the tent where Duncan had taken his recruits.  

Lys had never seen him look so…old.  _Old, bitter and angry._   

Kai touched her shoulder.  “Should we go, My Lady?”

Loghain turned at the sound of Kai’s voice.  “You should go, Lady Cousland.  There’s nothing to see here.  Remember the boy we knew, not the warden  we saw here today.”

Lys opened her mouth, but realized she had no retort.  She turned and followed Kai out of the box.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lys had no duties that evening and felt a need to be alone.  Kai went to her own room to read.  Lys sat staring out her window.  A knock sounded.  She sighed and got up. 

“I’ll answer, Kai.”

Queen Anora stood in the doorway when she opened the door.  “Your Majesty.”  Lys hesitated, confused.  “Please, come in.”

Anora slipped past Lys and walked over to the common room window.  “I thought perhaps we should talk.”  She turned to face Lys.  “About Alistair.”

“What is there to say?”

“Our reasons.  I feel there are things you haven’t been told, Lys.”

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, I forget my manners.  Kai-“

“Lys, stop.  I don’t need refreshments.  For tonight, here, it’s Anora.  Your friend.”

Kai stood in her doorway.  

“Kai, you may listen if you like.  I think you and Lys have few secrets, yes?”

Kai nodded.  She seated herself on the floor, leaning on Sherpa.  Lys sat in her chair by the window.  Anora took to the matching chair opposite her.

“You know Father tried to take him from Dragon’s Peak last year, but he had already been taken away.”

“Yes.  Mum wrote.  Then Fergus told me in more detail.  About that and the attack on Teyrn Loghain.”

“Did Eleanor tell you Grand Cleric Elemena refuses to honor King Maric’s agreement to acknowledge him?”  

“No, but the Teyrn mentioned it today.  That’s why Teyrn Loghain decided to rescue him, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Father, Cailan and Fergus made that plan to rescue him.  You know, then, that the Chantry holds him for Orlais?”

“Not exactly.  I just knew they say he misbehaved and that he works in the Armory as punishment.”

“He does.  The Grand Cleric keeps him because they plan to send him away eventually.  Well, in truth, fairly soon we think.  Our sources tell us they brought him here to break him.  He was too successful, too well liked at the Peak.   Revered Mother Hilda tried to convince Grand Cleric Elemena to allow him to be a brother.  She spoke up for him once too often, apparently.

“When they brought him here, they told him that he caused the disgrace and punishment of his friends at Dragon’s Peak.  They threatened him with the punishment of those around him here if he did not obey.  Apparently he’s been quite tractable of late.  They considered him ready to go to Orlais and fulfill the Empress’s plans for him.  We had to act.  This seemed the best plan.”

“Who is they, Your…Anora?”

“We believe Empress Celene working with the Knight Vigilant.  The Divine can be easily led, it seems.  Orders may come from her, but she may not understand their true purpose.” 

“You have no proof?”

“No.  Suspicions.  What Cailan has observed on his trips.  Reports from some operatives.  We had no other plan, so Cailan spoke with Duncan at Ostagar.  He explained Alistair’s parentage.  Duncan agreed to recruit him.”

Lys’ head spun a bit.  _Why would they tell Duncan when he already  knows?  They must not know about Alistair’s mother or Duncan’s part in his birth_.  _But_ _Loghain knows.  Maker all these secrets.  Loghain must think Duncan planned this all along.  And Fiona – an Orlesian elf, a mage and a Grey Warden.  And Maric’s trip with her.  No wonder Loghain suspects the wardens._

“Your father went along with this?”

“No.  That is Cailan didn’t tell him first, although I think he suspected.  We spoke before I came here to you.  He thinks Alistair will fall under Orlesian control with the Wardens.  That he’ll eventually be sent there to serve.  He’s afraid that the wardens will prove more successful in seducing Alistair to the Orlesian viewpoint.  He made his views quite clear when Cailan and I returned from the Tourney this afternoon.  He didn’t say anything to you today?”

“He said Alistair was lost to us.  He told me to remember the boy I knew, not the warden.”

Anora nodded.  “Unlike the Templars, Father believes Alistair will see the Wardens’ cause as just.”

“He would be correct.  It is a most just cause.”

“Is that true?  Cailan says they can _sense_ darkspawn and are ferocious fighters, which helps in battle, but anyone can kill darkspawn.”

Lys cocked her head.  “That’s true.  It’s the Archdemon who leads a Blight that must be killed by a warden.  At least my reading of their history implies this.  Nothing actually states that.  I suppose I might be wrong.”

“Well, there’s no Blight, so that’s moot.”

“Your father has a point, I’m afraid.  Duncan may take direction from Orlais, whether he knows it or not, Fergus says.  He may think it natural that orders come through Montsimmard from Weisshaupt, but it’s not.  All the other outposts received orders directly.  Weisshaupt, if they listen to Orlais, may think Ferelden is still subservient to Orlais.  

“I don’t think the First Warden considers Ferelden important.  If he did, he would have remedied King Arland’s banishment much sooner.  Why didn’t Orlais re-establish a warden post here while they ruled?   Afterall, it was Orlais who stepped in to set up the wardens here after King Maric lifted the bann.  Nothing came directly from Weisshaupt.”  _Except Duncan, Fiona and Alistair._

“You make good arguments.  At least they’re based in fact, not emotion.”

“Hrothgar’s Wrath, our mercenary company, works closely with the Nevarran wardens.  I’ve gone on several mission with them.  The Nevarrans have a close relationship with the Marcher Wardens in Ansburg and a cordial one with Weisshaupt and the Anders.  They’ve tried to establish a similar relationship with Ferelden and failed.  Both the former Warden-Commander, who was also Orlesian, and Duncan have declined any exchange of wardens or joint exercises.  Duncan declined the same offer from Ansburg.  Fergus found them strangely remote when he spent time with Maric’s Shield in Ostagar.  They refused joint patrols with the Shield,

“I hadn’t realized the difference.  It’s disturbing.  Perhaps Father has some points.”  

“Ferelden wardens only cooperate with Orlais.  Your father and King Cailan experienced this.  It’s as if they consider themselves an extension of the Orlesian wardens and not a separate Fereldan group, despite Duncan’s title of Warden-Commander.”

“After their stay in Ostagar, Father and Cailan have been at odds over the wardens.  More than before.”  Anora frowned and pinched the bridge of her nose.  “Cailan still spends hours at the compound, sparring and talking with the wardens.  He’s done that since he was a child.”

“So he will see Alistair?”

“Well, that’s also odd.  No.  The Warden-Commander asked him not to visit while Alistair was there.  He said it would disrupt Alistair’s adjustment to the wardens.”

“And Cailan agreed?”

“Yes.  He’s not happy about it.  He looked forward to seeing Alistair again.”  Anora pursed her lips.  “I think it’s for the best.”

“Because he didn’t act sooner?  Alistair might not receive him well.”

“Yes.  Cailan regrets it all now, but he might not take it well if Alistair gets angry.  Cailan is angry with himself for not acknowledging Alistair sooner. He’s even had words with Eamon over it.  He and Eamon have been arguing almost as much as he and father.”

“Well, Arl Guerrin losing influence can only be a good thing.  He’s in Redcliffe until the Landsmeet isn’t he.”

“Yes.  He and Cailan argued on the way home from Orlais on board the _Calenhad_.  Eamon seems to isolate himself more and more, of late.  Father does too.  He’s been closeting himself with Howe of all people.  The two of them see Orlesians behind every bush.  I have to wonder if Howe uses Father’s Orlesian obsession to manipulate him.”

Kai had taken the pot heating by the small fire and made tea as Lys and Anora talked.  Anora sipped from the cup Kai handed to her.

“I’ve missed our talks, Lys.  We need to be formal now that you are my Lady, but I feel closer to you than to Delilah and even Pippa.”

“I’m…honored, Anora.  I,”  Lys smiled, “…it’s not a friendship I would have envisioned a few years ago.”

Anora laughed.  “Nor me.  More fools us.  Perhaps, once you’re been here for a few months, we can make time to talk without  Pippa or Del becoming…concerned.”

“Would they?  Pippa wouldn’t be jealous.  Delilah….”

“Yes, Delilah.  It’s hard to say how much gets back to Arl Howe.”  She sipped again.  “I did want you to understand what we did and why.”

“Thank you.  It helps.“  Lys sipped her tea.

Both women seemed reluctant to end the conversation.

“Cailan certainly seemed happy to see Elin when he returned last week.”  Lys chuckled.  “It’s fun to see the boys I knew become doting fathers.  Oren can wrap Fergus around his finger.  He’d be a spoiled terror if Oriana allowed it.”

“Ah,” Anora smiled.  “Cailan adores her, but I fear she will get her way with him as well.  I thought he would want a son, but he’s thrilled with a daughter.  He’s already talking about training her, of course.  She’s to be a warrior princess he says.  The best of both of us.  He’s quite amazing with her and she adores him.  I think she may be the only person he truly loves.”

“Anora….”

“It’s fine.  It’s probably true for me as well.  Almost.  Of course I love father, but we disagree too much of late.  And I love Cailan, but more as a friend.”

Fergus’ name hung unspoken between them.

“He’s not Cailan, Lys, and I would never be untrue to Cailan, him or myself.”

“I know, Anora.”

“It could have worked you know.  You could have taken Highever and we could have been together in Gwaren.”

Lys’ head snapped up from her cup, as tea splashed over the edge.  “What!”

Anora shrugged.  “I think about it sometimes.  What ifs….  You and Alistair in Highever and…well it would have left Cailan without a queen, but I’m sure that could have been worked out.”

Lys giggled.  

“What?”

“Habren.”

“Oh Maker, I wouldn’t do that to him.  You saw the wedding.”

“I told you she would love that yellow silk.  She looked sick.”

“That might be Vaughan and not the dress.”

Lys spit her tea again.  “Anora!  Of course it’s true about Vaughan, he’s vile.  Habren has always been strange too.  They may be a match made in the Void.”

Anora grinned.  “She will love being Arlessa and she will bankrupt the Arling in no time.  Perhaps then I can step in and get more control of how Denerim is ruled.”

“Cousin Bryland must be thrilled to have her off his books.”

“Well, the wedding made for an interesting Summerday.”

The both laughed.  

“Delilah would have made a good wife for Cailan.  She’s a lovely girl when she’s not around her father.  I would enjoy her as a friend, but she will tell her father everything.”  Anora  mused.

“And Pippa?”

“Not for Cailan.  She’s too kind.  Delilah has hidden strength.  She would not survive as Howe’s daughter if she didn’t.  Pippa, she’s shrewd, organized and directs others within the guidelines provided to her.  I never fear indiscretions, but I’m not sure she would withstand a crisis.  She’s a follower, I suppose, not a leader.”

Lys frowned as she noted Kai nodding.  “You agree?”  she said to Kai.

“Yes.  I mean, I can see Lady Philippa speaking up for her principles, but she’s not a fighter.  She won’t bring others along with her, as you would.”

“Me?”

“Of course, you.  Why do you think I trail after you everywhere?”

Lys gave her sidelong look.  “Because you like me?”  

“Well, there’s that and of course you pay me,”  she grinned, “but mostly because I trust you to make the right choices and do the right thing.  With my good advice of course.”

Anora chuckled.  “I think Kai is right.  What I meant regarding Cailan is that Pippa wouldn’t stand up to him.  Not that I do it very well…or perhaps too well.  I actually think Delilah might do it better.  She’s gently persuasive.  I push.  It’s all foolish speculation anyway.”

“Of course, you overlooked the other obvious wife.”

“You?”

Lys shrugged.  “I’m the other Teyrn’s daughter, after all.’

“You would have been the best choice,”  Anora rubbed her brow, “you have a way with Theirin men, I’ll admit.  Maric loved you.  Alistair….  Even Cailan enjoyed your company and would listen to you, although he spent more time with Fergus.  You manage a balanced reaction to the Theirin charm.  It doesn’t put you on the defensive or overwhelm you.  You and Father could talk back to King Maric as no one else could.  Fergus and you can reason with Cailan without sending him off in the opposite direction as Father and I do.“

“And Alistair?”

“Oh, Alistair has his share of the Theirin charm.  I suspect it’s how he’s survived.  He makes friends easily.  Part of his charm is that he doesn’t realize he has it.”  Anora smiled as she stared into the fire.  “Did I ever tell you how he won me over?”

“No.”

“I went to the Peak with Father fully expecting to dislike this young Theirin bastard who had so much of father’s attention.  I expected him to be a rude, brutish version of Cailan.  Instead I met this lovely, polite boy who carried on intelligent conversations with me and, particularly, my father and who offered to draw for me.”  Anora sat silently for a long time before she continued.  “If father could have requested a boy for a son, it would have been Alistair.  He loved talking strategy and tactics and weapons with Father.  I heard more Rebellion stories when we visited Alistair.  Father opened up with him as he did with no one else except Maric.  I don’t have to tell you how he could melt your heart with a smile.  Father always said he was more like Maric than Cailan.  He credited Alistair with more common sense and intelligence than either.  He claims Alistair had an edge to his wit that neither Maric or Cailan had.  I miss visiting him.”  Anora looked up at Lys brushing her cheeks.  “Lys, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Lys sniffed, then smiled.  “It’s fine.  I just haven’t heard anyone describe him so well in a long time.  You know your father.  It’s always ‘he has a grasp of tactics’, ‘we sparred and he beat me’ or ‘he’s doing well’.  He could be describing anyone.  And Alistair’s letters…well they left everything to the imagination.  I…we were children.  It’s been so long.  I’ve imagined what he must be like now.  Then seeing him today, he was a stranger.  His personality didn’t show.  The person you describe is the person I knew.  It’s comforting really.”

Anora sighed in relief.  “I didn’t think, Lys.”

“No, I should thank you.  It’s good to know he’s not changed that much.  I do have a request, Anora.  The initiation for the wardens can be dangerous.  Could you find out if he makes it?”

“Dangerous?  Do you mean-“

“-I mean he could die.  I told Teyrn Loghain at the Tourney, but I didn’t ask him to tell me if Alistair survives.  I’d like to know.”

“Of course.  Lys-“

“-I’m not being dramatic, Anora.  I read a lot about the wardens.  I met some on a trip we took in Nevarra and was intrigued.  I found out that they have a lot of secrets, but the danger of the Joining, as they call the initiation, is pretty clear in the old records.”

“I didn’t know.”

“You should ask Cailan if he knows.  He should.  The wardens say that they tell the rulers of a country many, if not all, of their secrets to encourage them to cooperate with recruitment.  If they’re not telling Cailan its further proof that they consider the Ferelden Wardens an offshoot of Orlais and not an independent group.”

Anora bit her lip.  “I don’t think Cailan knows.  He wanted to save Alistair from the Chantry.  Sending him to die…I don’t think that’s what he intended.”  Anora frowned.  “Perhaps that’s why Duncan doesn’t want Cailan to see him.  And Father…he’ll be furious with Cailan, Duncan, everyone.”

“He does think Alistair would choose Orlais.”  Lys sighed.  

“He thinks Alistair has lost all hope and will do as he’s told, even if that means he goes to Orlais and does the Empress’s bidding.”

“That’s…crazy.  Alistair…but then we don’t know do we?  Maybe he has changed that much.”  

“Perhaps Fergus could see him.  He’s Cailan’s liaison with the wardens.  It would be natural for him to meet the new recruits.  Perhaps you could go too.”

“No.  No, I think we’ve both said our goodbyes.  It’s better if I don’t.”

“Sometimes I think you’re only adult in the country.”

Lys laughed.  “Nineteen going on sixty.  I get closer to my true age every name day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, subscribe and/or follow. I welcome comments, encouragement, suggestions and critiques. I hope you continue to read and enjoy.
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eyes. Her astute comments improve every post. Any errors are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. Special thanks to those who Reviewed: Arsinoe de Blassenville, Mike3207, caraine, Eastern Violet and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. Knowing you enjoy the story inspires me.


	55. Brothers and Sisters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:29 Dragon Solace and August - Denerim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

"Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…"  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 55 – BROTHERS AND SISTERS**

 

 

* * *

**9:29 Dragon  Solace  ===  Warden Compound, Denerim**

Eryhn and Alistair gathered their belongings from the Denerim Monastery immediately after the Tourney ended.  Ehryn had a large pack stuffed full.  She wore her own practice armor and carried her Templar sword and shield.  Alistair’s barely filled pack sagged against his back.  After packing up the few items in his room, he had gone to the basement to retrieve his belongings from the trunk there, but the old arming clothes, drawings and dagger took up very little room.  Lys’ letters had never been returned.  He wore a linen tunic and leggings, a scuffed leather vest, and cheap leather boots. 

“Is that everything, Alistair?”

“Yes, Se…Warden Commander.”

“I see.  Well, we can outfit you at the compound.”

“Thank you, Warden Commander.”

“Let’s go.  We can just make dinner if we go briskly.  It will be a good opportunity for you meet the others.”

Duncan and his two recruits crossed the market towards the bridge over the Drakon.  Alistair, slowing to look around, had to run to catch up with Duncan and Eryhn.

“You staring as if you’ve never seen a market before,” Eryhn said, looking at Alistair.

“Am I staring?  That’s because…I love to shop.  Shoes particularly.  You know all the styles, colors…have you ever seen Antivan leather boots?  Red ones go particularly well with Templar uniforms.”

Eryhn just looked at him, not sure if he spoke seriously or not.

Duncan rolled his eyes, but said nothing.  He simply hurried them across the bridge and past the fine homes of the Palace District.  Alistair saw the Wyvern of Gwaren on one gate.  _That must be Gwaren House._  Duncan noticed Alistair’s interest. 

“That is the estate of Teyrn Loghain,” Duncan said.

“The Hero of River Dane,” Eryhn added.  “I saw him in Highever a few times.  He visited the Teyrn.  He and Lord Fergus walked right through town.  No guards.  Big as day.”  She looked at Alistair waiting for a comment, but none came.  “Have you ever seen the Teyrn?”

“A few times.  He came to Dragon’s Peak sometimes with Queen Anora.   Before she became Queen she visited the girls’ school.” Alistair added hoping to fend off further questions.   He glanced back at Loghain’s estate.   _I wonder what she would say if I told her I almost spent Satinalia there once._

“We’re at the palace,” Duncan announced.  “The warden compound has its own entrance.  You’re not to use any other entrance or wander the grounds outside the compound.  We have everything we need within our own space.”  He looked from one recruit to the other. 

“Yes, Warden Commander,” they replied in unison. 

“Good.  Now our gate is guarded by both Palace Guards and a warden.  I’ll make sure you’re known to them.”

“Can we just leave and go into town if we have no duties?”

“For shopping?” Eryhn asked.

“Well, of course.  A man can’t have too many shoes.  And scarves.  You’re from Highever.  You must know about fine wool scarves.” 

Eryhn just shook her head.

Duncan exhaled, blowing his breath between pursed lips.  _They didn’t lie about his jokes._   “You can Alistair.  Although I suggest that you…both of you, go in company with other wardens at first.  Denerim is a big city.  We don’t want either of you to get lost.”

“Understood.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“Eryhn, you will be the only female warden in Ferelden.  It’s a distinction.  There haven’t been many female wardens, but the few who belonged to the order distinguished themselves.  You will have your own room in a separate wing.  Enjoy it.  I hope to recruit a few more women, so you may have company soon.”  Duncan called a young elven girl over.  “Phyllia, please show warden recruit Eryhn to her room.  Make her familiar with the facilities then bring her to the hall for supper.”

Yes, Warden Commander.”  The elf turned to Eryhn.  “Please,  recruit, come with me.”

Eryhn smirked at Alistair.  “I’ll enjoy the privacy Warden Commander.  Thank you.”  She followed Phylllia.

“Alistair, you will also have your own quarters, although not so private as you’re accustomed to.” 

Alistair followed Duncan from the entry hall into a corridor.  He turned left at the first door. 

“This is my office and quarters.”

They entered a study complete with desk, bookcases, chairs, and fireplace.  They went through a door on their right.  Alistair could see a bedroom through the open door at the end of a short hall.  A door on their left opened into a smaller room complete with bed, stool, chest, table, and shelves.  It looked very like his room at the armory.  It even had a small, high window.

“You will bunk here, Alistair.  I want you to serve as my squire.  I’ve had mixed reports about you.  Most of them label you a troublemaker.  I’ll have none of that here.  On the other hand, a few have given you credit for adjusting well to unwarranted punishment.  You’ll have to show me which reports were correct.  We’ll start with a blank slate.”

“That seems fair Warden Commander.  Will you tell me my duties?”

“I will, but first let’s go have supper.  I’ll introduce you to the others.”

“Will I be permitted to leave the room when I have no duties?”

“Yes, of course.  As I said before, your free time is your own.  Use the library, train, whatever you wish within the compound.  Or go into town with others.  What you said earlier, that no one could speak to you.  Was that true?”

Alistair looked at him, then down at the floor.  He looked up again, “Yes.  I taught some classes for pages, but I didn’t stay afterwards to chat.  I took orders from other templars.  I didn’t ask questions, just did as I was told.  I was a servant.  A disgraced initiate.  I haven’t had conversations with anyone other than Arms Master Quenton in a year.   Well, unless you count Knight-Commander Cynan or the Grand Cleric.  I had interviews with them every so often.”

“With the Grand Cleric?”

“She took an interest in my punishment.  I suppose that’s why she opposed my recruitment today.”  Alistair looked at him.  “Why did you recruit me, Warden Commander?  Florian fought better than I did.”

Duncan frowned.  “I don’t think he did Alistair.  Certainly not given the difference in your preparation and readiness.  I spoke with Quenton.  I know you practiced on your own.  You showed courage and character in victory and defeat.  I remember you from Kinloch Hold.  You fought with great skill there.”

“That was a long time ago.  Is that all?”

“Should there be something more than skill?”

“Perhaps.  It’s something I don’t talk about so…let’s drop it.

“I know who you are Alistair.”

The young warden recruit grimaced looking at the floor.  “I thought you might,” he almost whispered.  “How?”

“I knew your father, Alistair.  You look very much like him.”

“So, just a guess?”

“No,” Duncan said slowly.  “He told me about you years ago.  Asked me to look in on you at Redcliffe if I passed through.”

“And did you?”

“A few times.”

“So, he knew how the Arl treated me?”

Duncan frowned.  “The Arl put a roof over your head and fed you.  I only learned of the Arlessa’s mistreatment later.”

Alistair stared at the floor for some time.  He looked up at Duncan and shrugged.  “Hardly matters now, right?”

“It is in the past, Alistair.”

“Grand Cleric Elemena knows who I am too.  She wanted to make sure I didn’t use my parentage to gain favor.  The Knight Captain didn’t know.  He just liked to yell at me.  He thought it pleased the Grand Cleric. 

“In our meetings, the Grand Cleric made it quite clear that she thought I had used my identity to gain privileges in the past.  She let me know I deserved no favor.”  He frowned.  “I didn’t use it.  No one at Dragon’s Peak knew who my father was.  I was just a bastard orphan to them.  The Grand Cleric didn’t believe me.  They were all punished because of me.”  He shrugged.  “I have no interest in anyone knowing who my father is.  Or in seeing anyone associated with him.  I hope you don’t tell anyone.  I’m just Alistair, Grey Warden Recruit.”

“I agree with that attitude.  I won’t tell anyone, Alistair.  Becoming a warden means giving up everything you were or had.  All wardens stand on equal ground.”  _Fiona wanted him to have a normal life.  I wonder if she would have chosen the Palace if she could have foreseen this.  Maric tried to honor her request.  She would probably kill him for failing, if he wasn’t already dead. This is not what she had in mind._

“Good.  That’s good.  I’ll try not to disappoint you.”  Alistair followed Duncan to the hall.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Solace passed by quickly.  Alistair found he could easily perform the duties Duncan set for him.  His duties as a squire were minimal.  Duncan preferred to care for his two blades himself.  He left his shield, long sword, and crossbow for Alistair to maintain.  He saw to Duncan’s armor, arming clothes, and boots.  A servant took care of Duncan’s clothes and laundry.  Taking care of one man’s armor and practice equipment hardly filled his day.  Even with training every morning, he had free time. 

After he finished his morning duties for Duncan, Alistair went to the armory to practice forms and spar under the supervision of Warden Eugene.  Eugene had been a chevalier in Orlais, but as a younger son, chose to volunteer for the Wardens.  He worked Alistair hard. 

“I’ll have you ready to challenge almost any other warden within the month, boy.”

Alistair had seen Eryhn sparring with other wardens, but Eugene forbad him to spar with anyone but himself for the first month.  He worked Alistair hard, improving not only his form, but his endurance and strength.  The gibes he had come to expect from his fellow recruit continued.

“Still not ready to spar with the men, Alistair?  Until you beat them, you can’t spar with the women.”

He grinned at her today.  “Bottoms a bit dusty, Eryhn.  Been cleaning the yards?”

“At least I’m in the yards.”

He shrugged.  “I’ll get there.  Then we can have a rematch.”

She sniffed.  “The outcome won’t change.”  She limped away. 

“Ignore her Alistair.  She’s good, but over confident.  She thinks she has nothing to learn.  It will be her downfall.  Darkspawn don’t fight by the rules of the tourney yard.”

“How do they fight?”

Eugene grinned.  “Now _that_ is the right question, _mon ami_.  Let’s get started.”

Alistair discovered the library during his second week at the compound.  He felt like he had found an old friend.  Duncan assured him he could borrow any book he wanted, surprised at his interest.  Alistair started reading warden history beginning with the tales of the First Blight.  He soon added books describing the tactics needed to fight the various kinds of darkspawn.  Duncan often found him in the library, hunched over a book after supper.  Finally, he had to suggest that Alistair should be more social with his fellow wardens.

“Oh.  Sorry.  I guess I’m so used to my solitary ways I forget to join in.”

“Well, you should.  Go out if they invite you.  Have a few pints.”

“You want me to go out drinking?”

“Alistair, it’s a normal activity.  Yes, go.  Just remember to exercise moderation.  I expect you up and functioning at sunrise.”

“Right.  I’ll keep that in mind.”  He smiled.

**9:29 Dragon  4 August  ===  Warden Compound, Denerim**

The recruits kept busy during Solace.  Alistair’s nineteenth birthday passed unnoticed, although several large wheels of Lanarke Blue and Blarliathe Cheddar, courtesy of Fergus Cousland, showed up in the Warden Compound kitchens on the twenty-eighth.  Duncan told Alistair it was not unusual for Fergus, as the King’s liaison with the wardens, to gift them with Highever products. 

Fergus visited in person in August when he came to Denerim for the Landsmeet with his parents, Oriana and Oren.  He brought five-year-old Oren and Jadyn, his mabari, with him to the compound. 

“Fergus,” Duncan stood and extended his right arm in welcome when the young Lord entered his study.

Fergus gripped Duncan’s forearm as Duncan did the same to his.  “It’s good to see you Warden Commander.  I hope you don’t mind, I brought my son.”

“Not at all.”  Duncan stooped to greet the boy by in the same manner, extending his right arm.  Oren grinned and grabbed Duncan’s forearm.  “Quite a grip young man.  You’ll be a fine warrior like you father one day.”

Alistair stood in the shadows of the hallway to the bedrooms.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to meet Fergus, but didn’t know how to avoid it.  He sighed and walked into the study.  He was never quite sure how much of his history Duncan knew.

“Shall I get refreshments, Warden Commander?”

Before Duncan could reply, Fergus did.

“Alistair.  I’d heard you became a warden.”  Fergus smiled.  “It’s good to see you looking so well.”

“Lord Cousland.”  Alistair saluted, arms crossed over his chest, not smiling.

Fergus, instead of pressing him to be more friendly, bent down to speak to Oren.  Oren looked at Alistair, eyes wide.

“Are you a warden too?”  Oren asked.

“I am or soon will be.  I’m a recruit at present, serving Warden Commander Duncan.”

“Can you fight?”

Alistair did smile then.  “Yes.  That I can do.”

“My papa uses a sword and shield, but Aunt Lys uses a sword and dagger.”

“I use a sword and shield, Oren.  That’s your name, right?  Oren?”

“Oh, yes.  Sorry.  I’m Oren Cousland.”

“I’m Warden Alistair.”  Alistair held out his hand.  Oren gripped his wrist smiling.  “Well met, Lord Oren.”

Alistair stood.  “Warden Commander?”

“Ah, yes, Alistair some ale, bread and cheese would be welcome.  Have Cook send a tray up.  Perhaps you could take young Oren on a tour while his father and I talk.”  Duncan looked at Fergus for permission. 

“I think that’s a splendid idea,” Fergus agreed.  “Jadyn will go with you.” 

The mabari stood. 

“Jadyn, obey Alistair.” 

The mabari huffed and followed the young warden and Oren out the door. 

“He looks well.”

“He has fit-in well.  His wit seems to be appreciated by the other wardens.”

“Not by you?”

“It can be wearing at times.  He spent a year cut off from the other templars.  I think he’s making up for lost time.  He has refrained from pranks, however, which I appreciate.”

“His skills?  Lys said he struggled during the Tourney.”

“He did.  It’s to his credit that he did as well as he did.  The Grand Cleric forbad him from practice or sparring for a year.  I only knew his skills from seeing him spar at Kinloch Hold two years ago.”

“Maker, we knew she held him separately from the other initiates, but not to let him train?”

“I don’t know why.  Arms Master Quenton didn’t either.  It’s not his place to question.”

“No, of course not.  Did he practice in secret?  He must have maintained some skills to win bouts.”

“I assume he did.  I did not ask for details.  Sometimes it’s wise not to know too much.”

“Of course.”  Fergus shook his head.  “Well, I did not come to visit him.  I came to see how the wardens fare at Ostagar and in the Wilds.  We’ll rotate a new company of Maric’s Shield into place after the Landsmeet.  I will accompany them, but not stay long.  I’d like to return home for Satinalia this year.  Apparently the king and queen will join us in Highever.”

“You don’t seem excited by that, Fergus.”

“I enjoy a quieter Satinalia than one with royal visitors.  And Loghain.  It will be nice to have my sister Lys home.  But we digress again.”

“We do.  Darkspawn activity had not worsened.  They push at the Wilds borders, mostly east of Ostagar, but don’t go much beyond.  A few villages and farmsteads have been attacked, but nothing worse.  I expect activity to slow over the winter.  We’ll know better what we face in the spring.  I should have a report for you before the Guardian Landsmeet.  Frankly, I’m not optimistic.  I still think this presages a Blight.  Perhaps the Archdemon will show itself in Wintermarch.”

Fergus shivered in spite of the still warm weather.  “What can we do to prepare?”

“Convince your fellow nobles.  Even the king, as much as he…idolizes his idea of the wardens, does not believe me.”

“I’ll start with my father,” Fergus promised.  “He has returned to Court.  Perhaps he can convince the others before spring.”

“Good.  I suspect Alistair will take young Oren to the practice yards.  You’re welcome to spar with him if you wish.”

“I might do just that.”  Fergus stood.  “I do have a question.  I know the wardens have an initiation.  I assume from Alistair’s comments his has not yet taken place?”

“No.  There is some preparation for recruits before we can complete the initiation.”

“I see.  May I beg favor?”

Duncan stared at him, eyes narrowed, before answering.  “I’ll let you know if he passes it successfully, Fergus.”

“Thank you.  We would all appreciate knowing.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Oren and Alistair walked into the armory where half a dozen wardens prepared to spar. 

“Nursemaid duty?  That fits.”  Eryhn smirked at Alistair. 

“Warden Alistair is not a nursemaid.”  Oren frowned. 

“And who might you be?”

“Oren Cousland.”

Eryhn eyebrows rose.  “Well, nursemaid to a baby noble.”

“I am not a baby.”

“Eryhn just let it go.  There’s no need to pick on a child.  Lord Fergus meets with Duncan today and they asked me to give Oren a tour.”

“Wardens don’t bother with nobles, titles or governments, _Squire_ Alistair.”

Eryhn jumped as Jadyn growled behind her. 

“You may not care, but I suggest you curb your tongue, because Lord Fergus’ mabari does.”

Eryhn turned slowly, only to face an angry hound. 

“Stand down, Jadyn,” Oren ordered, sounding very much like his father.  “She’s just mean.  I think I’ll ask Aunt Lys to challenge her.”

“Who?”  Eryhn  asked.

“My Aunt Lys.  _She_ fights with Hrothgar’s Wrath.”

Alistair stifled a chuckle with a cough.  “He’s right.  Hrothgar’s Wrath is a free mercenary co-“

”-I _know_ what they are _Squire_.  And I know who he means now.  Lady Melysande Cousland.  She…I’ve seen her fight.  He’s right.  She’s good.  I always wished she would enter a tourney in Highever, but she never did.  Something about it not being fair to the rest of us if the Teyrn’s daughter entered.”

Jadyn emitted a sound that was not quite a growl and pushed between Eryhn and Oren.  Eryhn backed away.

Alistair took advantage of Eryhn’s distraction to take Oren through to the practice yards where they watched two wardens spar.  Fergus found them there.  Alistair felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to find Fergus grinning at him. 

“Care to go against me?”

Fergus wore armor and carried his sword and shield. 

“I’m not sure I’m ready for that, Your Lordship.”

“Dragon Feathers.  And it’s Fergus.”

Alistair stared at Fergus and burst out laughing.  “Dragon Feathers?”

“Ah…I had to clean up my language,” he replied nodding at Oren.  “One of my new sayings.”

“Well, I suppose I could spar with someone whose worst expletive is Dragon Feathers.”

“Oren, I’m going to spar with Alistair.  You sit on this bale of hay and watch.  Jadyn will stay with you.”

Jadyn barked.

“Yes, Papa.  Will you win?”

“Maybe.  Alistair is good though, so maybe not.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Fergus carried a tired Oren as he and Alistair walked back to the compound entrance.  Jadyn trotted beside them.  After he and Alistair sparred, Alistair showed Oren several forms.  Once he had learned the motions, Alistair let him repeat them holding a blunted dagger.  Oren had learned quickly much to his father’s delight.

“You teach well.”

“He’s fun to teach.  Pays attention better than most of the pages I taught.”  Alistair tousled the boys head when he grinned at Alistair’s praise.  “Thank you, Fergus.  This was…it was a good way to learn about former friends.  Oren is a font of information.”

Fergus laughed.  “He does chatter.  Takes after his aunt.”  He decided to ignore the former friends remark.  “I’m glad I sparred with you today and not five weeks ago.  I’ve improved a lot since I came here.”

“I’m not.  I might have beaten you five weeks ago, if that’s true.  Maker Alistair, you still move more quickly than any sword and board man I know.”

Alistair smiled at the praise.  “I’ve taken up the bow again, too.  Maybe we could-“

“-very funny.  I’m still terrible, even though I lead a mounted archery unit.  They shoot and I shout,”  he grinned, “and keep my sword loosed in its scabbard.  No.  I’ll take a rematch in the sparring ring though.  Perhaps we’ll meet at Ostagar in a month or so.”

**9:29 Dragon  6 August  ===  Warden Compound, Denerim**

Lys stood to one side under the awning of the merchant’s stall while Kai searched his wares for just the right birthday gift for her cousin Shianni.  Sherpa sat patiently at Lys’ feet.  As she watched  the crowd, four Grey Wardens, wearing warden tabards over their armor, entered the market walking west.  They laughed and joked as they walked.  Three were older wardens in the thirties or forties.  The fourth was a much younger man.  Lys watched him.

One of the three men surrounding Alistair punched him in the arm and nodded toward Lys. 

“Looks like you’ve got an admirer, Alistair.”  Malachi nodded toward a tall, young woman in a fuchsia gown and moss green cape standing  at the edge of a merchant’s stall across the market.  Her hood pooled around her neck, revealing dark brown hair artfully braided and falling over one shoulder.  A mabari sat at her feet.

“A noble, no less.  Look at that mabari.  A beauty.”  Bruno whistled, attracting the attention of the girl’s companion, an elf, and the mabari.

Alistair blushed, as he always did when their teasing involved a girl.  He looked at the girl, who continued to stare while the elf next to her touched her harm and spoke to her.  The auburn haired elf spoke to the woman like a friend, not a servant.  He shrugged.

“She’s looking at all of us, not just me.  She’s probably impressed that we’re wardens.  Or she can’t believe your beard, Bruno.”   He poked the dwarf walking next to him.

The ginger dwarf grunted. 

“Probably looking for the songbirds nesting there,” Alistair teased.  “That was a mellifluous whistle.”

“A what?  Sometimes I think those big words you use must be dirty,” Bruno grumbled.

The other wardens laughed.  “Yeah, those noble girls keep birds in cages you know.  Better be careful, Bruno.  She might cage you as a pet.”

Alistair looked back. 

“You know that elf doesn’t act much like a servant.”  Anton observed.  “That’s unusual, even here in Ferelden.  That kind of familiarity would never be allowed in public at home.”

“It’s allowed in private?” Malachi asked.

“Depends.  Rumor has it the Empress allows her spy master extensive liberties.”  Anton shrugged.  “Elves have all sorts of uses in private in Orlais.  Is that not true in the Anderfels, Malachi?”

The wardens continued towards the bridge over the Drakon towards the Palace district and the Warden Compound.

“Lys?  What’s wrong?”  Kai squeezed her arm again.

“Sorry, Kai.”  Lys realized a tear had run down her cheek.  She brushed it away.  “Lost in thought I guess.”

“Or in a view of Grey Wardens.”

“You noticed them too?”

“I noticed a handsome young one, who looked a lot like the templar they conscripted at the Tourney.”

“It was.  He looked right at me.  Not a flicker of recognition.  I’m such a fool.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Alistair had first glimpsed Lys in the Royal Box sitting next to Loghain, behind Duncan and Cailan.  He had had no doubt the young woman in the market was his childhood friend.  Yet he thought it best they not meet.  _What would we say?_   Their friendship had always been tenuous he realized now.  They had only been together five times, once in Highever and four in Redcliffe, for a few weeks each time.  They had been children.  Yes, they had connected from the moment he warned her away from the Arlessa’s roses.  Lys had changed his life for the better for a while.  When he saw her, he realized he had nothing to say to her anymore.  Once their worlds had intersected, but they no longer did.  Any connections they once had were long gone. _A teyrn’s daughter and a grey warden have nothing in common.  Fergus had been friendly, but he hadn’t suggested Alistair visit his family.  No, all he had now were memories._

He rubbed his hands through his hair.  He had seen her before she saw him in the market.  _I think I managed indifference._   He smiled to himself.  _I am glad I saw her.  It’s nice to have a grown up image_.  _The elf must be her friend Kailian.  The mabari was certainly her Sherpa._

He looked up at the palace from the practice yard.  He knew she lived there as one of Queen Anora’s Ladies.  Could he manage an accidental meeting?  He shook his head.  _How?  Storm the palace.  Scale the garden wall and hide in a tree?  There’s no point._ The Warden Commander would be angry.  Only Fergus had spoken to him since he arrived at the compound, but visiting the wardens was Fergus’s duty as liaison.  He would not have come otherwise.

At the Chantry he had told himself no one visited because the Grand Cleric forbad it.  Now there was no excuse.  The wardens mentioned King Cailan visited often.  That he had not sparred with them since the tourney, surprised them.  And Loghain.   Surely Duncan would let Loghain visit.  Or had Loghain given up on him since his outburst at Dragon’s Peak so long ago.  _He hates the wardens.  Probably hates me for becoming one.  They don’t care.  Maybe they never did.  They just wanted me away from the Chantry._  

**9:29 Dragon  10 August  ===  Warden Compound, Denerim**

“Walk with me, Lady Melysande, “ Anora ordered.

Delilah and Pippa looked at each other as Anora and Lys walked down a path away from the clearing under a birch tree where they sat on a blanket.  Princess Elin had just learned to sit up, but still wobbled.  She turned, as if to watch her mother, overbalanced and toppled over on the blanket.  She giggled and grabbed for her rattle.  She rolled onto her back waving the silver rattle at the sun sparkling through the branches.  Elspeth, her nurse, sat nearby watching her charge. 

“Has Lys angered Her Majesty?  She sounded so stern.”  Delilah watched the two women walk away.

“I don’t think so.”  Pippa looked perplexed as she watched the retreating figures.

“She’s been strangely quiet since the Tourney.”

“Lys has her moods,”  Pippa replied.  “She probably overlooked something and Her Majesty wants to speak to her about it.  She forgets things when she’s preoccupied.”

“Preoccupied with what?”

Pippa groaned to herself.  _I need to watch my words_.  Delilah hadn’t identified the young templar with the boy who had visited Highever one Summerday.  “I don’t know, Del.  I just know that when she’s quiet like that she’s usually preoccupied with some problem.”

“Problem?”

“It could be anything.  She hasn’t confided in me so I don’t know.  I’m sure Her Majesty will help her regain her focus.”

Delilah nodded, thinking she should mention this to her father.  It seems innocuous enough, but he gobbled up anything about the Couslands.  It would save her a verbal beating when she saw him next.

“You’ve been very qui…no subdued these past few days, Lys.  It’s been weeks since the Tourney.  You seemed to have accepted Alistair’s fate.  What’s wrong?”  Anora tone had become gentle once they were alone.

“I’m fine, Your Majesty, just, as you said, feeling subdued.”

Anora stared at her. 

Lys suddenly giggled.  “Oh Maker, Your Majesty.  How is it possible for you to look just like your father?”

Startled, Anora mouth opened then closed before she finally spoke.  “No one has accused me of _that_ before.”

“It’s the stare.  You have Teyrn Loghain’s stare.  I never realized it before.”

“You’re changing the subject, Lys Cousland.”

Lys smiled.  “Not on purpose.  Truly, it’s amazing.”  She sighed.  “It’s silliness.  I saw Alistair.  In the market the other day.  He walked through with several other wardens.  He looked right at me and didn’t recognize me.”

“Perhaps-“

“-no, he looked at me for a long time.  His companions teased him about me because I was staring at him.  I heard them.  He showed not a flicker of recognition.”

“It’s been a long time Lys.”

“I know.  It’s just…I wrote him once that he wouldn’t recognize me now that we had grown up.  He wrote back assuring me that he would always know me.  I suppose I clung to that and…it’s hard to realize I was right.”  She looked off towards the west wall.  A guard walked across on the wall walk.  A few roses remained on the vines.  “I’ll be fine.  It’s just a childish hope that’s gone.  I’m surprised it hurts this much.  I thought I’d already let go.”

“It’s not always fun, being right,” Anora said.  She linked arms with Lys and they walked on .  “Thank you for telling me.  I’ve learned, from you mother in fact, that sharing hurts lessens them.”

Lys smiled again.  “She’s told me that as well.  Perhaps I haven’t learned the lesson.  I did tell Kai.  She was there, but she never knew him so it’s different telling you.”

Anora squeezed her arm and let go.  “We should get back.”

They walked in silence for a while. 

“You can tell Del and Pippa, when they ask, that….um….that you forgot to order some samples I wanted from House Haris.”

“But I didn’t.  They’ll arrive today.”

“Two days late!”  Anora said a little too loudly as they approached the others. 

Lys put her head down stifling a smile.  “Thank you, Anora,” She whispered.

**9:29 Dragon  7 August  ===  Warden Compound, Denerim**

Alistair took the note with the Griffon crest stamped into the wax seal to Duncan. 

“This just came, Warden Commander.  The messenger said it came from the compound in Jader.”

“Good.  I’ve been waiting for this.  Have your fellow recruits gather here in a turn of glass, Alistair.”

Alistair went in search of the others.  In addition to Alistair and Eryhn, an Alienage elf named Peryndel and a human from the Bannorn just west of Denerim named Crispin waited to take their Joining.  Duncan had recruited Peryndel and Crispin just before the Tourney.  They had trained with Eryhn during Solace. 

Alistair found Eryhn and Crispin in the armory.  Peryndel he located in the library.  The elf spent more time there than Alistair.  He suspected Pery spent the time improving his reading skills as much as researching the wardens and looking for elves among them.  Pery had been fascinated to find out about Garahel, the elf who ended the last Blight.

The meeting with Duncan lasted only a quarter turn of the glass. 

“We leave in the morning for Ostagar.  We will travel lightly and quickly.  Gather your things, pack them as you’ve been taught and be ready to leave at first light.  Pack carefully.  You will live with what you pack for at least a month.  Don’t concern yourselves with food or drink.  They will be provided.  If you need to go to the market do so.  I want you all here for supper and early bed.  You should enjoy a final night on a mattress.”

Duncan looked at his recruits.  “Any questions.”

The four looked at each other and then shook their heads.

“Good.  You have your orders.  Carry on.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Alistair went to his room and laid out what he thought he would need.  He had acquired more possessions since coming to the wardens, as well as a comfortable amount of coin.  Smalls, tunics and leggings, softer boots for camp, two sets of arming clothes, wool and leather breeches, stockings, his leather vest, boots, splint mail, sword, shield, bow, arrows and quiver, fletching supplies, flint, water skin, personal care items …he scratched his stubble.  What had he missed?  A cloak?  He would need to purchase that or see if the wardens issued one.  Rain cape and cowl too.  At the Peak a few boys had knitted hand covers…mittens?  _I wonder if I can buy those in the market._

It was still warm along the coast in Denerim, but he knew farther south and west winter would come early.  Duncan had not said how long they would be at Ostagar.  He had no map, but he figured it would take about three weeks to get there; it would take three more to return.  Best case he guessed they would be gone ten weeks or more.  By Harvestmere they would be well into a Ferelden winter in the south.

Duncan sat at his desk when Alistair entered the study.

“Warden Commander.”

“Yes, Alistair.”

“Do the Wardens issue cloaks and cowls?  For winter.”

Duncan smiled.  “Yes.  Go see the quartermaster.  He’s under orders to issue winter gear to you.  And Alistair, good thinking.  Don’t tell your fellow recruits.  I’ll have the winter gear with us, but I wanted to see which of you realized the need.“

“I’ll keep quiet.  Umm…do the warden’s issue rain capes?  Waxed capes that is?”

“You like your comfort, I see.”

“Well…I like to stay healthy.  A shelter half would be good too.”

“Just ask.  If we don’t supply it, Quartermaster Timon will tell you.”

Alistair grinned.  “Sounds good, Warden Commander.”

Duncan watched him leave.  _Well, he learned something at Dragon’s Peak._   _He’s like his father in some ways, the sense of humor certainly, but not in all.  I see Fiona in him too.  Her stubbornness and persistence and her intelligence.  Not that Maric was stupid, but Alistair is quick._

Duncan went back to his letter to Riordan in Jader.  Writing in cypher, a different variation each time, took so long. 

_Riordan,_

_I have our new recruit.  You’ll meet him at Ostagar, with three others,  for the Joining.  You mentioned you might take him to Jader.  I’d prefer you did not do that.  I believe he will be an asset to our fight here, if he survives.  We should discuss when we meet, as there would be issues if he left Ferelden at this time.  I’m keeping him close.  I cannot, of course, guarantee he won’t be hurt, but he’s a fine fighter.  He has a better chance than many should we have to battle our way through the Wilds to get our vials of blood._

_I hope you bring additional Archdemon blood with you.  I would like to recruit ten or more wardens over the winter.  I’ll make a circuit of Ferelden and hold another Joining at Ostagar in Guardian.  I hope to find a few mages as well as warriors and rogues._

_In peace, vigilance,_

_Duncan  
Warden Commander, Ferelden_

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Duncan knocked on Alistair’s door. 

“May I come in?”

“Of course, Warden Commander.”

“I’m curious.  Have you packed your belongings yet?”

“No.  It’s all there on the bed.”

“May I inspect?”

Alistair shrugged.  “Of course.”

“I’m doing this because you asked the right questions.”  Duncan’s lips quirked into a crooked grin.  “And you’re right here.  I’m not inspecting the others.”

He sorted through Alistair’s belongings.  “A book?”  He held up a small rectangle wrapped in waxed cloth.

“Well, there may be lax times.  There was when I traveled to Kinloch Hold.  I missed having a book on that trip.  I missed books all last year.  It should stay dry wrapped in that.  There’s a wax tablet and stylus in there as well.”  He scratched his chin.  “It’s a history of the fourth Blight.”

“You’re thorough.”

“I’m missing maps.  I haven’t had time to copy one yet.  I was just going off to do that now.”

“You can read maps?”

“Of course.  I estimate the trip should take 3 weeks give or take depending on whether we cut through the Southron Hills or stay on the West road to Lothering.”

“That’s correct.”  Duncan raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Dragon’s Peak boys aren’t as stupid as the rest of the templars make us out to be.”  He grinned.  “We learn to use our brains and our swords; then we learn how to decide which weapon best fits a situation.  I also learned from the Teyrn when he visited.  You know he visited, right?”

Duncan nodded, pulling thoughtfully on his beard.  “Go ask Timon to issue you a map set.  I have one, but it’s always good to have a spare.”

Alistair eyes widened.  “My own set?  Brilliant.”  He hurried off to the quartermaster.

 _He’s easy to please._ Duncan walked back to his desk, deep in thought. _I may have gotten much more than I realized with him.  A well-educated warrior trained by Teyrn Loghain himself.  I think I’ll keep that quiet for a while.  Riordan doesn’t need to know right away.  Not to mention the furor if he disappears and surfaces in Orlais after the Joining._   Duncan frowned.  _Riodan can’t plan to pretend he died in the Joining.  The Fereldans will find out unless the Orlesians hide him away permanently.  When the Fereldans do, the wardens will be summarily banned again just as a Blight’s beginning.  I don’t care what Orlais and Ferelden do in normal times, but now fighting a Blight comes first.  Whatever Riordan says, moving him to Orlais is a political move, not an order from Weisshaupt._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading whether or not you review, fav or follow, I appreciate you. I hope you continue to read and enjoy.
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eyes. Her astute comments improve every post. Any errors are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. I do love reviews and welcome comments, encouragement, suggestions and critiques. 
> 
> Wow. Lots of reviews this week and some comments on Tumblr. Special thanks to all of you: Arsinoe de Blassenville, dustywalker, clafount, Mike3207, KatDancer, caraine, pyjamaprisonerand SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback.


	56. Join Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the road and at Ostagar 9:29 Dragon August and Kingsway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

"Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…"  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 56:  JOIN US**

 

* * *

**9:29 Dragon  August  ===  On the road west**

Duncan, the four recruits, a packhorse, and one other warden left Denerim on the morning of 9 August, 9:29 Dragon.  Warden Cormac came from a village in the Southron Hills.  He would guide them when they left the West Road to head towards the Brecilian Passage.  Duncan planned to turn southwest, short of the passage to Gwaren and head towards Ostagar.  The recruits were not quite sure why they needed to leave the West Road to Lothering and head through the wilderness, but it was not their place to question.

On the West Road, they made good time.  The weather remained fair and not too cool.  Mid-August proved a beautiful time to travel.  Peryndel, Cormac, and Alistair hunted for small game to supplement their rations.  Cormac had grown up hunting, while Alistair and Peryndel’s skills came from practice at the archery butts.  Both recruits improved quickly, as hunters, under Cormac’s tutelage.  Alistair’s eyesight and hearing were as good as Pery’s.  His fellow recruit warmed to him, as he found they had more in common than their love of books and learning. 

“Where did you learn to shoot so well?”  Peryndel asked.

“I had some good teachers when I was younger.  I did a bit of hunting too.  I didn’t always live in the Denerim Monastery.”

“You have good eyes and hearing.”  Cormac observed.  “You see as well as Pery.”

“So I’ve been told.  Lucky, I guess.”  He looked at Pery.  “What about you, Pery.  How does an Alienage elf learn to shoot so well?”

“You mean how did I not get arrested for using a banned weapon?”

Alistair grinned, “Well that too.”

“A friend’s mother taught me.  We would practice early in the morning when the guards rarely patrolled.  This friend and I set up an archery range in an alley.  She and I trained together until she left the Alienage to work in a noble house like her father.  I kept on training.”

Eryhn and Crispin, both city bred, knew far less about living and traveling in the woods than Alistair.  Neither Erynh nor Crispin were archers so they could not contribute to the hunt nor were they cooks.  Pery, Cormac, and Alistair dressed the game they caught.  They left Eryhn and Crispin to build the fire under Duncan’s direction and then get water, prepare vegetables, and cleanup, a chore Eryhn in particular hated.  Cormac cooked. 

Their first night out, Alistair had his shelter pitched and a pile of wood collected for the fire he knew they would need before the other recruits had unpacked their packs.  Pery, while slower than Alistair, seemed to understand how to pitch his shelter and finished shortly after Alistair.  Alistair approached Crispin and offered to help.  The recruit waved him away.  Eryhn glared at him so he did not try to approach her.  Finally, the two human recruits had some semblance of a shelter in place.  _I hope the wind’s not too strong tonight,_ Alistair thought as he looked at the loosely secured shelter cloths.

Sitting by the fire the third night on the road, Crispin asked Alistair where he learned his camp skills.  Cormac and Duncan had retreated to their tents by then, leaving the recruits to talk together. 

“Mostly with the templars at Dragon’s Peak.  We had mage hunting exercises in the monastery forests.  It was learn to camp or freeze.  Then I traveled to Kinloch Hold two years ago.  The initiates had to set up the tents and cook for the templars.  Either you learned to do it right or you were punished”  Alistair looked at Eryhn.  “You must have traveled to the Hold, Eryhn.”

“No, I never did.  I did all my training in the Monastery near Higheverport.  We never went to the Circle of Magi.  Or camped.  Or chased mages.  We escorted mages and observed them.  We worked at the Chantries.  We even helped the Highever guard at some of the more remote villages.  In Highever, we don’t assume mages are evil.  The mages there work with the Chantry, helping the healers.”  She stopped, but then added disdainfully, “We don’t practice hunting them.

“I didn’t realize how different the templars would be outside of Highever.  My lieutenant tried to tell me, but I thought being chosen to go to Denerim was an honor.  It wasn’t.  That’s why I wanted to become a warden.  Anyway, the only time I traveled was from Higheverport to Denerim.  We stayed in inns.”

“Oh.  That’s different.”  _Right.  It’s Highever._

She frowned.  “I didn’t know the training at Dragon’s Peak was so…rigorous.”

“Yeah, a lot of people think we had it easy.  We didn’t.  We had to work hard at studies and martial and templar skills.”  He stared at her.  It was almost a glare.  “I didn’t say I enjoyed hunting mages.  I never wanted to be a templar at all.”

“So you thought misbehaving would get you kicked out?  That’s not very smart.  What did you do to be taken away?”

Alistair stared at the fire for so long, Eryhn thought he would not answer.

“I fed mages extra rations on the way to Kinloch Hold.  At least that’s what they gave as the reason, even though it was a year later.  They blamed everyone at Dragon’s Peak for what I did, but I was only one they brought to Denerim.  The others they sent west.  In truth, I don’t know what caused them to act.  One day all was normal.  The next a new Knight-Captain and Revered Mother showed up.”  He shrugged and went back to staring at the fire.

“We heard you played horrible pranks.”

Alistair’s eyes’ narrowed.  “If you knew the answer, why did you ask,”  he snapped.  He got up and went to his tent.

“Why did you do that, Eryhn?  He’s right.  You let him answer and it was clearly hard for him.  Then you smack him with a rumor.  What he admitted to, feeding mages, would templars get punished for that?”

Eryhn hugged herself, more from embarrassment than cold.  “I don’t know.  Not in Highever.  Elsewhere, probably.  I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You poke at him all time.  You did it from habit,” Pery admonished.

“Maybe you should back off.  You’re both here.  It’s not as if you’re competing any longer,” Crispin said.  “He’s not so bad.” 

“No, he’s not.”  Eryhn wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her forehead on her knees.

The group fell silent as darkness fell.  Alistair stayed in his shelter and pulled a candle from his pack.  He had arranged his shelter as a lean to with the open side towards the fire.  He pulled out his maps, quill and ink and the wax tablet.  He carefully marked his notes from the day on the map.  His fellow recruits watched, curious.  They had seen him do this same thing each night. 

“Alistair, what are you doing?”

He looked up at Pery.  “Recording on my map the landmarks and notes about the terrain we covered today.  Come and see if you want.”

Pery joined him and Alistair explained how he observed the terrain as they traveled.  The map had notations for each observed feature.

“What good is that?”  Eryhn asked, her disdainful tone returning.

“It will let him find his way back,” Crispin answered.

“It’s a road.  How hard can it be to go the other way.”

“It won’t be when we go south towards the Brecilian passage,” Pery replied.  “And if we had to go off road, to fight bandits or darkspawn, the taller landmarks on here would help us find our way back to the road.”  He looked at Alistair for confirmation. 

“That’s right.” 

“Oh.  You learned that at Dragon’s Peak too, so you wouldn’t get lost hunting mages.”  Eryhn frowned.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.  You had to do what they ordered, just as I did.”

“Mostly,” Alistair nodded, smiling slightly at her.  “They had a huge library and scriptorium with lots of maps.  The brothers helped us, too.”

Eryhn stared at him, frowning, but in a confused rather than an angry frown.  She started to rise when Crispin moved over to see the map, but changed her mind and sat back down alone.   Alistair, Pery and Crispin went over their progress and reviewed their likely route for the morrow.

Duncan watched the whole exchange from his tent.  _He doesn’t realize how good he is at this.  He’s a natural teacher.  I just need to discover if he can lead as well.  That patience must come from Maric._ Duncan chuckled. _It certainly didn’t come from Fiona.  That temper probably did, although he manages it well._

He thought back to the evening he and Fiona had brought Alistair to Maric. 

_“No, what I want is for him to be human.  I want him to be fully human and not in line for your throne, not competing with your other son and tied to this royal blood that has brought you nothing but grief.  I want him to have a fresh start.”18_

Duncan shook his head remembering Fiona’s reaction when Alistair had gone to Dragon’s Peak ostensibly to become a templar.  Even in a letter, the anger had reverberated around his study.  _He’s had more than one fresh start.  None of them were what his mother intended when she handed him to Maric._   This fresh start would not please her either, but perhaps it could be better than the others.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The group spent two days and three nights at South Reach before continuing their journey.  The West Road passed through South Reach as the town’s High Street.  It opened into a market square in front of the half-timbered town hall.  All along the High Street, half-timbered shops, their upper stories hanging out over the road and their signs swinging above their doors, offered wares from throughout Ferelden.  Several large inns could be found near the east and west gates.  Smaller establishments offered ale, a meal, and a bed on the winding alleyways that led off the main road.

Arl Bryland’s Keep abutted the wall on the west side of town.  The arl had a few vassals from local farmholds, but most of his wealth came from the town, its merchants, and its trade.  Situated in the center of Ferelden, on the more southern of the two east-west roads, trade from Gwaren and the Bannorn, Redcliffe and Rainesfere, and Denerim and Amaranthine all passed through South Reach.  Smaller roads ran north, through the Bannorn, to Highever and Waking Sea.  A small Alienage filled the southeast quarter of town, providing servants and workers for the smithies, mills, and workshops.  The wealthier merchants had homes in the west around the Keep.  The north side of the road held more modest housing and warehouses for the traders.

On the outskirts of town, travelers often set up camp rather than spend the coin for one of the inns.  There always seemed to be more travelers than beds in South Reach.  Many preferred a bedroll under a shelter to a stuffy room and a bed shared with several strangers.  Duncan was one who preferred the open air. 

From their camp on the western outskirts, just outside the wall, Duncan sent Crispin and Peryndel off with a list of needed supplies.  In a few days, they would leave the West Road, and purveyors of supplies, and venture south into the forest.  Alistair and Eryhn took their weapons to the smith for sharpening.  While there, Alistair purchased a score each of ready-made arrows and bolts.  He also purchased a supply of arrowheads, shafts, and feathers.  He wanted to improve his fletching and arrow making.  When they finished they wandered through town.

“So you decided you didn’t want to be a templar once you got to Denerim?”

Eryhn kept walking, giving him a sidelong glance.  “Yes.  I don’t hate mages.  It seemed everyone else did and they didn’t like me.”

“I don’t hate mages either.  I liked the ones I met at the Circle of Magi.”

“They let you speak to them?”

“Sure.”

“So you never wanted to be a templar?”

“Maker, no!  Never.  I always wanted to get away.  I asked to become a brother, but I was too skilled.

Eryhn’s sidelong glance said she did not believe it. 

“Or that’s what they said.  I have a pretty powerful smite.”  He grinned.  “So what happened in Denerim?  You didn’t just announce you liked mages, so why did they dislike you?”

“They didn’t like it that I was girl, or an orphan.  I had to be perfect and even then they teased me.”

“We didn’t have any women at Dragon’s Peak.  The two schools, girls and boys, were entirely separate.  We saw the priests at services and the Revered Mother came to the boy’s side sometimes.  Otherwise it was all male templars and brothers.”

Eryhn’s lips quirked up slightly,.  “So you’ve never been around girls?”

“Not since I was ten.”

“Ten?”

“That’s when I was sent to the Chantry.  I was a ward until then.  Stable boy.”

“I was always in the orphanage.”  She looked at him then.  “So you knew your parents or some relatives?”

“No.  My mother died when I was born.  The family she served kept me as a kindness.  Once they had their own children, they sent me to the Chantry.”

“So you never kissed a girl?”

“Once.”  He looked at her.  She was smirking.  He laughed and blushed.  “When I was ten.”

“So, the nights you went out drinking, no trips to the Pearl?”

His blushed deepened much to Eryhn amusement.

“The Pearl.  Maker, Eryhn, you’re as bad as Malachi and Bruno.  No.  I have not been to the Pearl or any similar establishment.”  He smirked, remembering that the Pearl served men and women.  “Did you enjoy it when you went?”

“What!  I never…oh you.”

“Hey, turn about….”

Her fair skin turned deep pink under her freckles.  “You’re not so bad, you know.”

“I know.  Neither are you, when you’re not preening.”

“Preening?”

“Yep.  Were you like that in Highever, or is that the act you had to develop for Denerim.”

She gave him a sidelong glance, surprised.

“I’m an orphan too, Eryhn.  I’ve been adjusting to what the people around me wanted me to be all my life.  You must do it too.”

“I do,” she replied stopping to stare at him thoughtfully.  “Maybe we have more in common than I thought.”

Alistair’s mouth quirked up slightly.  “Maybe we do.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

As they sat around their fire on the second evening, enjoying stew, bread, cheese and ale purchased from one of the local inns, Duncan finally briefed them on what to expect once they left the road.

“At Ostagar you will go through the Grey Warden Initiation.  Before you can do that you must each collect a vial of darkspawn blood.”

The four recruits looked at Duncan and then each other, surprise and trepidation evident on their faces.

“Will we find them easily on this new route?”

“Not easily, but Cormac and I can sense them.  We’ll know which way to go.”

“Sense them?” Pery asked.

“It’s something you will learn after your initiation.”

“And when you find them.  We have to fight these darkspawn?  Won’t we become tainted?”  Crispin spoke this time.

“Not if you are careful.  The taint occurs when darkspawn blood enters your body.  Keep it away from open wounds.  Don’t get it in your mouth.”

“We’ll be in battle.  It’s likely we’ll be wounded.  How do we keep it away?”  Eryhn asked the question which had occurred to all of them. 

“It’s less difficult than you might think, Eryhn.  Fresh wounds will bleed and your blood will wash the darkspawn blood away.  Once a wound scabs over, the blood can’t enter.  It’s older, open wounds that let darkspawn blood in.  Or fresh wounds from darkspawn teeth and claws already covered in blood.”

“So, make sure all wounds come from swords and arrows?  How hard can that be?”  Alistair gave a wry grin as Pery punched his arm and Crispin groaned.

Duncan rolled his eyes, but continued, “You should keep your distance, Peryndel.  Use your bow, not your blades.  Let Alistair, Eryhn and me fight them directly.  As a rogue, Crispin can use his stealth and agility to harry them from the flanks.  Cormac will use his crossbow at range.  You must work together to gather the vials.  This is not a competition.”

“We should protect each other as we fight?”  Pery asked.

“Absolutely.  Your success depends on each of you doing your part.”  He said no more, but looked at Alistair and Eryhn.

Both warriors shifted nervously. 

“Truce, Eryhn?”  Alistair asked.  “We need to attract these monsters so they don’t attack Pery or overwhelm Crispin.”

The young woman nodded.  “Our companions are more important than any animosity we feel.”  To everyone surprise Eryhn smiled and added, “After our conversation today, I’m not sure I feel any.”

Alistair held out his hand and Eryhn grasped his forearm. 

“We need to protect each other as well, Eryhn, not just Pery and Crispin.  I don’t want to lose you either,”  Alistair said.

“Agreed.  We all watch out for each other.”

Crispin and Pery leaned over and placed their hands on Eryhn and Alistair’s arms.  

“We’ll do this together.”  Crispin promised.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The group left the West Road several days later at a spot where it turned due west.  The path they followed led to the Brecilian Passage, just west of the main part of the Brecilian Forest.  They followed it south for a day, then turned southwest into the forests, which covered the Southron Hills.  Once through the hills they would enter the Korcari Wilds and make their way west along its northern edge to Ostagar.

Pine trees predominated in the forest this far south, but they passed occasional stands of white birch and balsam poplar.  The group followed narrow paths through the understory of Gwaren tea[1][19], sheep laurel, and blueberry bushes.  All were long past their blooming and fruiting seasons  The birch dropped its leaves carpeting their path with ovoid gold, which glittered in the rare moments the sun shone through the clouds.  Most days they awoke to rain dripping on their shelters. 

The three recruits’ eyes had widened when Alistair pulled his waxed cloak out of his pack on the first rainy morning. 

“Where did you get that?”  Eryhn asked.

“From the quartermaster.”

“And it never occurred to you to tell us?”

“Tell you?  How would I have known you didn’t have one?”

She frowned. 

Alistair looked at Duncan, eyebrows raised.  

“I have cloaks for the rest of you.  Don’t blame Alistair.  I asked him not to mention it.  I wanted to find out what you knew.”

“Not much, I guess.”  Crispin muttered. 

The companions put on the cloaks and started out through the wet woods.

 “How did you know?”  Crispin looked at Alistair.

“Templar training.  We used them when we went out on practice missions.  It rained a lot on the Peak.”

“I wish I had trained at Dragon’s Peak.  Sounds like you learned more than the Chant and a few templar skills.”

“We did.  Don’t knock the templar skills.  They might come in handy if meet up with darkspawn mages.”

Eryhn nodded, but Crispin looked surprised.  “Mages?”

“Yes,” Eryhn answered.  “It’s why Duncan wanted templars.  Our skills work against them.”

“Then there’s the ogres and shrieks,” Pery added.

“How do you know about them?”  Crispin asked.

“I took Duncan’s advice and used the library at the compound.”

“Oh.  Never been much of a reader, myself.  Guess I should have joined you.” 

As they traveled that day, Duncan had them each explain what they knew about the various darkspawn.  Alistair added that they should think about the best ways to fight them.  He and Eryhn began to ask Duncan how each darkspawn type fought.  Pery added what he had learned from his reading.  A discussion of tactics ensued.  By the end of the day, the four recruits felt more confident in their ability to fight the darkspawn when they met.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

As they approached the borders of the Korcari Wilds, they saw some evidence of darkspawn.  An abandoned hamlet and a few burned out farmholds provided evidence of marauding darkspawn bands.  Duncan had them search for bodies.  When they found bodies, Duncan and Cormac would move them to a pyre the recruits built.  The two wardens emphasized that all dead must be burned to limit the spread of the darkspawn taint.

They met their first tainted animals the next day.  Blight wolves, Duncan called them.  Unlike normal wolves, who avoided the six travelers, the Blight wolves attacked on sight.  Pery stayed back, loosing arrows as targets presented themselves.  Cormac stood with him, using his crossbow.  Crispin, wielding his dual daggers, circled the edges of fight, attacking where he could and protecting the archers.  Duncan, Alistair, and Eryhn, surrounded by the wolves, fought with the backs to each other.  After a short, but intense battle, more than a score of wolves lay dead at the warriors’ feet.

“That…”  Eryhn stopped.  “I don’t know what to call that.”

“A battle?” suggested Alistair?  “Guess we should build a pyre.”

“If we can find dry wood,” Crispin added.  “Not so easy here as at the farmholds.”

He had started to move into the woods, when Alistair grabbed his arm. 

“We should pair up, I think.  In case there’s more where these came from.  Or worse.”

Crispin’s brow furrowed.  “Good point.”

“That is good thinking Alistair, but I should go with one group and Cormac with the other,”  Duncan added.  “As I told you, we can sense the darkspawn.  No one should go off without one of us along from here on.”

“Can you sense the blighted animals?”

“Not in the same way or from a distance, but yes.  Even if they didn’t look tainted, Cormac and I would know they were.  Tainted creatures show their deformities quite quickly, though.  You’ll know when you see them.”

Once they found dry wood under a deadfall of pine trees, they quickly built a small pyre in a clearing and disposed of the wolves.

The rest of their day proved uneventful.  They slogged through boggy areas, which became more frequent as they entered the Wilds.  They found it difficult to stay dry, even on days it did not rain.  Clouds dominated the autumn skies. The sun seemed a distant memory.  Duncan distributed the woolen cloaks, which they put on under their waxed capes.  The two layers kept them somewhat drier and definitely warmer.

They met a few more packs of Blight wolves, but no darkspawn.  Even Duncan began to wonder if they would have to prolong their trip to gather the vials of blood.  As they settled in their shelters for the night, they all thanked the Maker for the dry clearing above the level of a bog lying to the south of their trail.  Duncan and Pery had second watch.  Duncan did not sense the darkspawn until their watch was nearly over.

Duncan and Pery quickly woke everyone.  The wardens and their recruits gathered on the edge of the camp.  Their fire had burned down to coals providing no illumination.  That was good Duncan assured them. 

“We will need our ability to see in the dark.  We have time before they get here,” he added.  “Take your shelters down.  Have your packs ready to leave.  Pile the packs around that large pine to the north.  We don’t need obstructions.”

When they finished the recruits joined Duncan at the edge of the bog.

“They come from the south, which means they will come around the bog and through those trees.  They dislike water and this bog deepens into a pond.”  He looked at Crispin and Pery.  “Can you two set some traps?”

Crispin and Pery set a line of traps along the edge of the trees, then moved farther into the forest to set more in random locations. 

“That will give us warning and do some damage before they engage with us.”

“Can you tell how many approach?”  Eryhn asked Cormac as they waited for Crispin and Pery to return.

“Aye.  There’s about a dozen in this group.  They broke away from another group much farther off heading east.  I’m hoping that group doesn't turn north too.”

“How many in that group?”

“Harder to tell so far away, but more than two score.”

“Oh.”  Eryhn grew quiet.

“Get ready,” Duncan whispered.  “Not far now.”

They heard a rustling as the darkspawn approached.  The sky to their left had begun to lighten.  At least they would be able to see their enemy.

“They don’t try to keep quiet do they?”  Alistair said.  “Not attempting to surprise us.”

“No need.  They can sense us as much as we can sense them.”

“Oh.  So you and Cormac draw them?”

“Yes.”

“Huh.  Good to know.”  Alistair turned to face the approaching darkspawn as the first trap exploded.

Eryhn moved forward, shield and sword at the ready.  Duncan to her left yelled as he attacked the first genlock to reach him.  Alistair on her right bashed a hurlock with his shield.  Two genlocks moved in on Eryhn. 

Pery loosed one arrow after another into the darkspawn as they cleared the trees.  He took careful aim, but maintained a steady rhythm, hitting targets with most shots.  He stood at the edge of bog, which provided cover to his rear.  He saw the two genlocks converge on Eryhn and loosed arrows at one of them, leaving the other to her sword.  Crispin stood in front of Pery, protecting him as well as darting in to backstab the genlocks attacking Duncan.

Cormac shot his crossbow from the other side of the clearing, trying to disable or kill the hurlocks attacking Alistair.  From such short range the cross bow quarrels did great damage.  Alistair found he could handle the wounded hurlocks by himself, but he could not help Eryhn. So far no ogres, shrieks or emissaries had appeared.  Cormac hoped it stayed that way.

Several genlocks, dazed after the line of traps exploded, seemed to realize the danger from the archers and moved to the center to attack Eryhn.  With arrow shots blocked by the darkspawn on the flanks, they had no arrow wounds.  Three converged on the young warrior.  Crispin saw her predicament.  She bashed and slashed, but as one went down a fourth took its place.  Duncan and Alistair, occupied with their own opponents could not help.  He rushed behind the three warriors to help Eryhn. 

Duncan battled four genlocks himself, with Pery’s helpful arrows assisting.  Alistair took on two more hurlocks as Cormac’s quarrels took down a third.  With Crispin’s assistance, Eryhn found they could stand against the three remaining genlocks.  Although it seemed like hours, the battle ended quickly.  The sun had not yet risen above the eastern horizon. 

The four recruits remained where they had fought staring, dazed, into the forest. 

“That’s all,” Duncan assured them.  “I sense no others nearby.  Get your vials, collect the blood _carefully_.  When you finish we’ll build the pyre.”

Grateful that their packs waited, ready to be shouldered, they quickly filled the vials.  They built the pyre over what had been their campfire.  They left the pyre still smoldering in what had become another rainy morning.  They would journey three more days before they would reach the old Tevinter fortress at Ostagar.  Pery calculated that they would arrive on 29 August.  They all felt relieved that they could settle into one spot and stay for a while.  After almost three weeks of travel, they had grown tired of moving on each morning.

**9:29 Dragon  Kingsway  ===  Old Tevinter Fortress at Ostagar**

“Which is the prince?”

Duncan frowned.  “He’s a warden recruit, Riordan.  He’s never been treated as a prince.  Nor does anyone else know his parentage.”

The two stood on the edge of the warden camp in the mouth of the ravine at Ostagar. 

“Ah, well, Warden-Commander Montargis calls him Prince Alistair.  He looks forward to him joining us at Jader.”

“I don’t think that is wise, Riordan.”

“It’s the Warden-Commander’s ord…desire.”

“It’s your Warden-Commander’s order, not the order of the First Warden to me.”

Riordan raised his eyebrows.  It was unlike Duncan to oppose a _suggestion_ from the Orlesian wardens.  Duncan’s predecessor has established the relationship with Orlais.  Duncan had not challenged it when he became Warden Commander. 

Afterall, the Fereldan wardens depended on Orlais for their Joining supplies.  Orlais doled out the limited supply of Archdemon blood to keep the Ferelden numbers limited.  Weisshaupt did not question the arrangement.  Should a Blight happen, Ferelden must request Orlesian assistance.  Wardens and chevaliers would pour into Ferelden.  Riordan understood that the chevaliers would not leave, but that was not the warden’s problem.

“The Fereldan’s already suspect us of interfering in their politics.  They have not forgotten the chevaliers who accompanied you on your visit last year.  Asking me to recruit Alistair was a means to free him from the Chantry and keep him here.  If we turn around and send him to Orlais, we will confirm every suspicion Teyrn Loghain and his supporters have.  We will lose the confidence of King Cailan.  We will be banished again.

“A Blight threatens, Riordan.  You know that.  Being ready to fight the Blight is our duty, not aiding Orlais in its plots against Ferelden.”

“The Fereldan’s care so much about an unacknowledged bastard prince?”

“The ones who count do.  I would not test it.  Not at this time.”  Duncan looked over at the four recruits by their fire.  “He’s the tall warrior.  I keep him close.  He’s acting as my squire.”

“I’ll take your message back, Duncan.  We’ll leave him here for now.”  He detached a pouch from his belt.  “I brought enough for twelve more recruits.  I suppose you could stretch it to fourteen of fifteen if you hold only two or three Joinings.  You have four this time, yes?”

“Yes.  They have their vials.  We can hold the Joining tomorrow.  I’ll get this,” he held up the small vial with its few drops of Archdemon blood, “ to my mage warden.”

**9:29 Dragon  2 Kingsway  ===  Old Tevinter Fortress at Ostagar**

Cormac took the four recruits to an isolated section of the great Tevinter ruins.  Duncan had called it the old temple, but Alistair doubted it had ever been one.  Or perhaps the whole building had been a temple and this circular portion overlooking the bridge and ravine had been a chapel.  A table stood on one side beside a ruined wall, where there had once been tall windows.   Now the wind moaned where songs might have rung out.  The ruins predated Andraste, but who’s to say the Tevinter temples didn’t include music.  Above, where the roof had once been, only the Ferelden sky with its stars and moons covered the ruin.  In truth, the second Satina was the more visible moon at this time of year, when Satinalia approached.  It flooded the chapel with light.  The first moon hung low in sky through the winter months providing no comfort or illumination.

“Cormac, what happens next?”  Crispin asked.

“We wait.  Duncan will explain when he arrives.”  As he finished Duncan strode across the stone floor and set a large chalice on the table.  The Orlesian warden, Riordan, followed him and stood to one side.

“At last we come to Joining,” Duncan said.  His somber demeanor chilled the recruits.  “The Grey Wardens were founded during the First Blight when humanity…”  Duncan looked at Peryndel, “…dwarva and ehlven stood on the verge of annihilation.  So it was then that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered their taint.”

Eryhn’s eyes grew wide.  “We’re drinking the blood we collected?”

“As the first Grey Wardens did before us.  As _we_ did before you.  This is the source of our power and our victory.”

“Those who survive the Joining become immune to the taint,”  Cormac added.  “As you saw when we traveled, we can sense it in the darkspawn.  In a Blight we can use it to slay the Archdemon.”

“Those who survive?”  Alistair asked, his voice quiet.

“We Grey Wardens give up much to become what we are.  Not all who drink the blood will survive.  Those who do are forever changed.  This is why the Joining is a secret.  This is the price we pay.”  Duncan looked at Cormac.  “We speak only a few words prior to the Joining, but these words have been said since the first.  Cormac, if you would.”

The four recruits looked at Cormac.  He bowed his head. 

“Join us brothers and sisters.  Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant.  Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn.  And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you.”

Duncan lifted the chalice.  “Peryndel, step forward.”  He handed Pery the full chalice.  “You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good.  From this moment forward you are a Grey Warden.”

Pery looked at the dark, viscous fluid swirling in the cup.   _Maker, can I do this?_ The elf took a deep breath, closed his eyes and lifted the chalice to his lips.  He took one draught and lowered the chalice into Duncan’s waiting hands.

The others watched, horrified, as Pery stood swaying and then grabbed his temples.  His eyes rolled back into his head.  He tottered and then collapsed to the stone floor.  Eryhn gave a small yelp.  Crispin and Alistair reached out, too late, to catch him. 

 Duncan knelt at Pery’s side.  “He breaths.  He will recover.”  He stood and turned to Crispin.  “Crispin step forward.” 

Crispin hesitated, looking first at Alistair and Eryhn. 

“Crispin,” Duncan repeated, sternly. 

He stepped forward and took the chalice.  Duncan repeated his words.  Crispin drank.  It all seemed to proceed just as it had with Peryndel.  He grabbed his temples, screamed, but he did not collapse right away.  Instead, he choked, tottered and fell to his knees, grabbing his throat and gasping for breath.  Finally, he collapsed on the floor. 

“I am sorry, Crispin.”  Duncan did not wait for the death to sink in.  He turned to the remaining recruits immediately.  Eryhn step forward.  She looked at Alistair who nodded, grimly, but touched her arm.  She seemed to take reassurance from his gesture, straightened her shoulders and stepped forward.

 “She breaths.  She will recover.”  Alistair let out the breath he had been holding.  She and Crispin had become his friends on the road here.  He didn’t want to lose both of them. 

Duncan interrupted his sense of relief.  “Alistair step forward.”

So many thoughts had flown through his head after Crispin died.  First for Crispin, then for Eryhn, and finally for himself.  _Is this it?  Our lives end here?  Is this what they all wanted?  A solution to their problem.  Splat.  No more bastard._

 _“Alistair!”_   Duncan’s voice brought him back to the present. 

He looked around.  The Warden Commander stood in front of him.  Cormac stood off to one side.  The Orlesian warden stood, aloof and grim, by the table in the cold chapel.  The three bodies, two living and one dead, sprawled on the rough stone.  He stepped forward.  He took the chalice.  He drank.

At first, he only felt nauseous as he tasted the thick, metallic, rancid blood, but the pain from a blinding headache soon blocked all other senses.  He felt himself collapse as a roaring filled his ears.  The image of a dragon appeared.  It seemed to be speaking to him, but he couldn’t make out any words.  Finally, all he could see was the dragon’s head moving towards him, jaws gaping after its last overwhelming roar.

“It is finished.” 

_What?!  What is finished?_

“Welcome.”

 _Welcome?  Did the dragon just say welcome?_ Alistair rolled his head from side to side and blinked his eyes.  Duncan came into focus.  Riordan, Cormac, Eryhn and Pery stood behind him.  Alistair lifted himself onto his elbows.  The images from his dream still threatened to blot out the reality around him.

He shook his head again.  “You’re not….did it speak?”  He frowned.  “The dragon!”

“You saw the Archdemon, Alistair.  It happens when we master the taint and become grey wardens.  It’s worse as a Blight approaches.”

“The dragon is the Archdemon?”

“Yes.  Grey Wardens can sense…can see the Archdemon in dreams.   It’s how we’ve become sure a Blight begins.”

Alistair stood, wobbled and then gained his footing.  He saw Pery and Eryhn looking behind him and turned.  Two wardens had lifted Crispin carefully and respectfully to bear him away.

“We will have a pyre for him shortly.  First, the three of you should take time to eat and drink.  The Joining takes much energy.”  Duncan smiled sadly.  “You don’t want to faint at the pyre.”

Cormac led the three new grey wardens to the mess tent, while Duncan and Riordan went to supervise the preparations for the ceremony.

The three wardens sat silently eating stew and sipping cider.  Finally Pery spoke.

“You saw the dragon too?”

“Yeah.”  Alistair and Eryhn both answered. 

“I guess we all did,” Eryhn said.  “It was…terrifying.”

Alistair nodded.  “I guess we all understand why the wardens keep this secret.  Who would volunteer to be poisoned and then dream about a dragon devouring the world.”

“We won’t allow it to happen.  I’d volunteer to prevent it.”  Pery spoke earnestly.

“I suppose I would too.  It’s still better than becoming a templar.”  Alistair smiled wanly.  “The save the world part…that’s a cause I can get behind.  You’re right.  We should look on the bright side, no?”

Eryhn stared.  “You think this is funny?”

“I think that we need to keep our sense of humor to get through.”  He hit himself on the temple.  “Right.  You don’t _have_ a sense of humor.  We’ll have to find you one.”

Eryhn smacked him on the arm, but failed to stifle a smile. 

“See.  I knew you could find it.”  He stopped smiling and stood.  “I do take it seriously, Eryhn.  Crispin was a good man.  He didn’t deserve to die.”  He nodded towards the unlit pyre.  We should go to the ceremony.  I promise no more jokes.  There’s no bright side to Crispin’s death.  None.”

As they walked towards the open area between the fortress and the forest Alistair wondered what other secrets Duncan had yet to reveal. 

* * *

NOTE:  Dialogue from Dragon Age Origins is spoken by Duncan and Cormac during the Joining scene.

* * *

18  Gaider, David (2010-04-01). Dragon Age: The Calling (p. 443). Macmillan. Kindle Edition.

19 There’s a bush called Labrador tea that grows in the boreal forests of eastern Canada and northeastern US often near bogs and ponds, but not always; in a similar forest in Ferelden, I decided it would be Gwaren tea.  It often grows with sheep laurel and blueberry bushes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading whether or not you review, fav or follow, I appreciate you. I hope you continue to read and enjoy.
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eyes. Her astute comments improve every post. Any errors are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. I do love reviews and welcome comments, encouragement, suggestions and critiques. Special thanks to all of you who reviewed or commented: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, nymra, Mike3207, KatDancer, caraine, Eastern Violet, mackillian, and SnowHelm. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback.


	57. The Bright Side of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:29 Dragon, Grey Warden camp at Ostagar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world. I sometimes incorporate game dialogue, although not usually in its original context. Either way, that dialogue belongs to Bioware. 
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

 

"Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…"  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 57 –THE BRIGHT SIDE OF LIFE**

* * *

When you're chewing on life's gristle,  
Don't grumble, give a whistle,  
And this'll help things turn out for the best, and  
always look on the bright side of life…  
  _whistles…_  
 _Monty Python, Life of Brian_  

**9:29 Dragon  Kingsway  ===  Old Tevinter Fortress at Ostagar**

The next afternoon at dinner, the three recruits ate silently.  Their morning meeting with Duncan and Cormac had stunned them.  Duncan’s pronouncement at the Joining had been an understatement. 

_“We Grey Wardens give up much to become what we are….Those who do are forever changed.”_

_But what are we?,_ each of them had wondered.  _“Changed, yes, but how?”_ Now they knew.  The tainted blood was only the beginning.

“Thirty years _at the most_.  More likely ten or fifteen!”  Pery said.  “That’s no time.  Once elves lived forever.  Even now, our lifespans can be longer than human ones.  Ten years!”

“On the bright side, you could…we all could… die tomorrow in battle.  At that moment ten years would look pretty good.”

Pery eyes narrowed as he looked at his friend.  “That look on the bright side shit begins to annoy me, Alistair.”

Alistair held his hands up.  “Fine.  Fine.  I’ll keep my bright thoughts to myself.”

“Never marrying, never having children, always being tormented by dreams of monsters, always fighting monsters above and below ground, and only living ten or fifteen years.” 

“Never having enough to eat,” Alistair interjected, filling his plate again with stew. 

Pery glared at him.

Eryhn looked up from her meal, surprising Pery with a smile.  “It’s not so bad for Alistair and me, Pery.  It’s not much different than becoming a templar.  Your loss is much greater.”

Alistair nodded.  “Yeah, now, as wardens, we get to die fighting darkspawn in the Deep Roads.  A worthy way to go.  Better than being in Val Royeaux, sitting in a home for Loopy Lyrium-Crazed Templars.”

Eryhn nodded.  “Templars take lyrium to boost their skills against mages,” she explained seeing Pery’s confused look.  “It’s addictive.  Once we begin, it’s difficult to stop.”

“Eryhn.”  Alistair looked at her eyebrows raised.

“What?”  She returned his gaze..  “I have no reason to keep templar secrets now.”

Alistair shrugged.  “Good point.”

She resumed her explanation.  “Lyrium's a poison too.  A slow one.  It takes years, but eventually the mind goes.  The templar lives on physically, but can no longer serve.  There’s a place in Val Royeaux where they’re…fed their lyrium dose and kept until they die.”

“I see.  So that’s why you two aren’t as disturbed as I am.”  Pery rubbed his nose.  “I expected more from life.  A wife, children, old age.  I _know_ Duncan said we give up our old lives, but I guess I just didn’t realize what that meant.”  He laughed silently.  “Maybe I’ll have to start whistling and looking on the bright side too, Alistair.”

For once Alistair did not smile.  “It helps, Pery.  I’ve been doing it for a long time.  Adjusting.  Never expecting too much.”

“Yeah,” Eryhn said.  “It’s never good to expect too much as a chantry orphan, even in Highever.”  She and Alistair exchanged looks.  “I’m sorry, Ali.  Sorry about the comments and…well, I’m just sorry.  We’re not that different.”  Her brow furrowed, she continued,  “The Highever templars would never have punished you, as they did in Denerim, even for the worst offense.  I suspect your punishment might not have been deserved.”

Alistair smiled, the final barriers between them dropping.  “Accepted.”  He stood and bowed.  “My Lady.”

“Well, look at your courtly manners.”

“We learned all sorts of skills at the Peak, My Lady.  Including how to act around our betters.”

Eryhn chuckled and Pery shook his head.

“Since we’re divulging templar secrets…had you begun your dose?”  Alistair asked quietly as he sat down again.

Eryhn eyes widened slightly, then she smirked.  “No. I never took vows.”

“How did you manage that?  Getting knighted, but not taking vows.”

“I begged Knight-Captain Cynan to let me compete first.  He was happy to get rid of me.  I was the only women in Denerim.  I heard the Grand Cleric liked the idea of some women templars, but he didn’t.  So he let me postpone the vows until after the competition, hoping I’d win and leave.  So, no lyrium.  Well, other than the initial doses as an initiate.  How about you?”

“I had my first and second dose at Dragon’s Peak.  Nothing in Denerim.  I wasn’t allowed to practice, so no need.”  He chuckled.  “At Dragon’s Peak I begged to become a brother, not a templar.  In Denerim, it seemed the Grand Cleric granted my wish.  Guess it proves the adage:  _be careful what you wish for_.”

“So you wanted to avoid your vows too?”

“I never wanted it.  I dreaded my vows and taking lyrium.  My last dose was just before I came to Denerim.”

 “Over a year ago.  We’re both clean.  Just as well I would think.”  She wrinkled her nose.  “That’s why Duncan wanted only recruits at the Tourney.  I doubt the Chantry would provide lyrium rations to the wardens.”

Alistair nodded.  “The wardens have alliances with the dwarves, but the agreements the Chantry has would make any trading, even with wardens, tantamount to smuggling.  Wardens move around so much, it wouldn’t be good to have a templar going loopy while on patrol if his lyrium ran out.  It’s easier not to deal with the addiction at all.”  Changing the subject, Alistair asked Peryndel a question.  “It’s pretty clear how we became wardens, Pery, but how did Duncan recruit you?”

“Duncan visits our _Hahren_ every so often.  Valendrian says they’re old friends.”

“ _Hahren_?” Alistair asked.

“The elves leader in the Alienage.”  Eryhn said, then noticed Peryndel’s surprised look.  “Everyone knew _Hahren_ Cordelian in Highever.  She sat on the City Council with the other city leaders.  She even worked with the Arlessa and Teyrna at the Guild.  She wove beautiful cloth based on what she knew of old elven designs.”

“On the City Council?  So the stories we heard of Highever are true?  The elves there have more freedom?”  Pery asked.  “The Highever elves didn’t make it up?”

“More than Denerim from what I saw, but I interrupted you.”

“I got into some trouble with the guard.   Some nobles came into the Alienage and tried to disrupt a wedding.  They wanted to take the girls away and _train_ them for their husbands.  It happens too often and I got angry.”

Alistair and Eryhn exchanged a surprise look. 

“I know, I surprised everyone when I grabbed a board and hit one on the back of his head.  He fell unconscious.  The other _shems_ -” he stopped, but Alistair waved his had to indicate he had not taken offense and Eryhn nodded, “-the other nobles started to fight, but when a score of elves joined me, they ran off and got the guard.  Long story short, I stepped up and took the blame to prevent everyone being punished.  Duncan was there and conscripted me out from under the guard.”  He flung his arms open.  “Here I am with you, a proud Grey Warden.”

“So your family is alright?  Your friends?  The brides and grooms?”  Eryhn asked.

“My family were when we left.  I visited to say goodbye.  It will happen again, but at least those two couples had their wedding and stayed safe.” 

“So what would have happened to you?”

“I would have been thrown in the Arl’s prison.  No one died, so I wouldn’t have hung, just rotted in a cell for years.”

“Duncan knew you were an archer?”  Alistair knew Peryndel treasured the bow he carried.  Pery said it had been a gift from his teacher.

“So he said.  He knew my friend’s mother, the woman who taught me.  He wanted to recruit Adaia years ago, he said, but then she had Kai.  I imagine if Kai were still in the Alienage he would have recruited her, but she left to work for the Couslands.”

“For the Couslands?”  Eryhn asked, surprised.  “How did she get a position in Highever?”

“She has relatives there.  They must have given her name to the Couslands.  Her cousin is Lady’s Maid to the Arl’s daughter.  Now Kai is Lady’s Maid to the Teyrn’s daughter.  I saw her a few times when she visited Shianni, Soris and her father.   She loves Highever and working for Lady Cousland.”

“I would think so.  Lucky girl,” Eryhn said.  “The Couslands are said to be good their people.”  She frowned.  “Your friend, reddish hair, pretty?”  She grinned, mischievously.  “An elf?”

Pery pursed his lips to keep from smiling.  “Yes to all three questions.  Maker, with both of you Bright Siding I might go crazy.”

Eryhn smiled.  “I’ve seen her with Lady Melysande.  It’s said she’s more of a companion to her lady.  She rides, spars and shoots.”

Peryndel grinned.  “That would make Kai happy.  She does love to fight.”

Alistair sat silently until he noticed Eryhn glancing at him.  He made himself grin.  “Well, now we each know the others’ stories, I suggest we explore these ruins.  We haven’t had a chance until now.  Let’s see if we can find any Tevinter artifacts.”

The three recruits had no duty for several days after their Joining.  Cormac checked on them frequently.  Duncan warned them not to leave the ruins, but beyond that, nothing was forbidden.  Alistair led them up, around and through every part of the ruins.  From the highest point in the old fortress, the top of the Tower of Ishal, they could gaze through broken windows at the surrounding landscape.  Mountains limited their view on three sides, but towards the south, they could see across the entire ruin and into the Wilds beyond.  Reputedly home to Chasind tribes, apostates, witches of the wild and fierce, strange beasts, the Korcari Wilds stretched as far as they could see.  The bare branches of deciduous trees poked up amid the pines.  More ruins arched above the trees amid the shimmering glitter that indicated ponds and bogs when the sun came out.  More snow covered mountains rose in the distance.

They didn’t find any artifacts, but they forged a deeper friendship as they talked, reminiscing about Crispin, the journey from Denerim, and their pasts.  They took their weapons and sparred on ancient battlements or practiced with their bows.  Alistair and Pery helped Eryhn when they ventured just outside camp to hunt.  Eryhn had taken Crispin’s crossbow.  She became determined to honor him by becoming proficient.  By the fourth morning after their Joining, they were ready to patrol with their brothers and sisters in the Wilds.

**9:29 Dragon   Kingsway  ===  In the Wilds West and Southwest of Ostagar**

Duncan assigned the three new wardens to a patrol sent to scout through the Korcari Wilds west of Ostagar.  So far, the darkspawn had appeared to the south and south east of Ostagar.  Duncan wanted to know if others lurked beyond the area already explored.  He wanted to prevent darkspawn suddenly appearing in West Hills or Redcliffe or on the Imperial Highway west of Lake Calenhad.  Warden Petyr led the patrol. 

Sending several scouts out ahead, Petyr spread the remaining sixteen wardens out in a skirmish line, with two  archers on each side, warriors with cross bow skills came next, then rogues using blades and finally warriors in the center.  Several wardens objected saying their crossbows were secondary skills, they were primarily sword and shield fighters.  Petyr replied that he would prefer they engage the spawn from a distance whenever possible.  His experience taught him that emissaries distracted by missiles did not cast as well.  Ogres, damaged by flights of arrows, fell more quickly to warriors' blades.  The crossbow wielders could switch to blades, but, first, he wanted them to take as many as they could with bolts. 

The wardens shrugged seeing the sense in his statements.  Alistair and Peryn stood together on one side with their bows.  Erynh stood a few positions away with her crossbow.  Pery chuckled as Alistair kept glancing over to check on Eryhn.

“Budding romance, huh?”

Alistair looked back at Pery, startled.  “Uh…no.  Just concerned.”  His cheeks colored.

“Right.”  Pery smiled.  “She’s attractive, for a human.  No shame in it.”

“I…neither of us…”  he turned away.

“Is this a Chantry thing.  You’re both chaste and pure?”

“Chaste certainly.  Pure…not in my thoughts.”  He reddened further.  “Maker, not about Eryhn.  There’s a girl I used to know.”

“Ah…so no longer a virgin thinker.”

“Maker Pery, stop.  I like Eryhn.  We had a rocky start, but we’ve come to respect each other.  We’re friends.   She’s not the one I think of…that way.  This is the first time the three of us aren’t fighting together.  I’m concerned.”  He smirked and poked Pery.  “You sound very experienced.  Is there someone?”

“There might have been.  It’s not unheard of to fool around.”

“Fool around?”

“Yes.  There are ways to avoid a child.  If you’re careful, you can enjoy another’s company.”  He smirked as he saw his companion’s blush spread again.  “I see we’ll have to have a talk my friend.”  Pery refrained from further comment as they looked down upon a large pond and marshy area from the crest of a hill.  _So our Chantry boy had a girlfriend.  That requires more investigation._

Petyr walked along the line of wardens.  “Does anyone sense anything?”

A few older wardens answered. 

“Very faintly, Senior Warden.  They’re south of us and moving north east,” one said.

“Too far away to tell what sort.  Nothing to the west or north,” another warden added.

Petyr nodded.  “I agree.”  He sighed.  “Let’s move out.  We’ll head southwest, same formation.  We’ll camp for the night continue southwest for another day and then swing south of our current route and return to Ostagar.  Stay alert.  If we sense them coming this way we may need to fight.”

The patrol found no darkspawn heading west or north.  They returned to Ostagar after five days and reported to Duncan.

****9:29 Dragon  Kingsway  ===  Old Tevinter Fortress at Ostagar** **

“Now that you’ve had a taste of patrolling I’ll give you more permanent assignments.  Peryndel and Eryhn, you two will stay with Senior Warden Petyr’s command.  Alistair, you will remain with me.

“What!  Why?”

“Because I order it.”

Alistair sighed, slumping slightly.  “Yes, Warden Commander.  Sorry.”

“Your enthusiasm and loyalty to your comrades is admirable, Alistair,  but I prefer you stay with me, not as a squire, but as an assistant, an adjutant, if you will.  You have skills I can use.  Map reading, planning, taking reports.  It’s not a trivial post.  You’ll get your chance to fight.”

Alistair straightened, “Thank you, Warden Commander.  I appreciate the honor.”

“You’ll see your friends in camp.  Now Alistair you move your tent here, by my fire.  Pery and Eryhn, you will camp with Petyr’s patrol.  See to your things.”

The friends walked to the camp they had set up on their arrival.   Then it held four tents.  Now there were only three.

“I guess we’re not a group anymore, “ Eryhn murmured.  “Crispin’s dead.  Your Duncan’s adjutant.”  She smiled at Alistair.  “Guess I should have learned to read a map!”

“Yeah, keeps you safe.  No fighting for the map reader.”

“Ali, it is an honor.”

“I guess.  I’d rather be with you two.”  He looked at her head tilted, “What did you call me?”

“Umm…Ali.  Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no…just…no one’s called me that in a long time.”  He grinned.  “It’s nice.  I’m glad we’re all friends.”

Pery grinned, “He means he’s glad you and he are friends.”

“I’m sure he meant you too, Pery.  I certainly do.”  Eryhn blushed.   “Now we better get our gear moved or we’ll all be in trouble.”

“Yes, Ser,” the two men said in unison.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Alistair returned to Duncan’s campsite and pitched his shelter.  A fire burned all the time outside Duncan’s large command tent.  Alistair knew that inside a cloth divided Duncan’s sleeping area from a workspace dominated by a camp desk, a map table and several chairs.  He could hear Duncan speaking with someone but could not make out what was being said.  He dithered outside the tent trying to decide whether to enter or not.  Finally, he lifted the flap.

“Warden Commander, do you need me now or should I find something else to do?”

“Alistair, come in.”

He walked into find Fergus Cousland talking to Duncan.

“Lord Fergus arrived with a new company of Maric’s Shield a few days ago.  They will replace the troops  who have been here for several months.”

Fergus grinned.  “Duncan tells me you passed your initiation and have been on patrol already.  Now he’s appointed you his adjutant.”  Fergus grasped the younger man’s shoulder and squeezed.  “Congratulations are in order.”

“Yes,”  Alistair nodded, trying to muster a grin.  “Definitely settling in.”

“It’s good all that training at Dragon’s Peak is not going to waste.  I just wanted to let Duncan know we had arrived.  We’ll talk later, Alistair.  I expect to be here for a week or so before I head home.”  Fergus nodded to Duncan and left.

“You seem uncomfortable, Alistair.”

“Fergus is alright, Warden Commander.  It’s just he represents the past and people who didn’t care… people I don’t need to see again.  I want to move on.  I’ll manage, if he’s the only one I see.  He’s always treated me well.”  Alistair looked up nervously.  “The others don’t visit do they?  King Cailan or Teyrn Loghain?”  _I don’t want to see their disappointment when they find out I survived.  At least Fergus seemed truly glad to see me._

“The Teyrn has been here.  King Cailan visited once, but I don’t expect him back here.  He does visit the compound in Denerim, but you’ll be away from there most of the time.”

“Good.  Will we be here?”

“We’ll be here for another week or two.  Then we’ll go recruiting.  I don’t expect you will have to visit any of the nobles with me.  You’ll be taking care of more mundane concerns, like securing rooms, arranging meals or evaluating recruits.  I prefer not to stay with the nobles or banns I visit, but often they insist.  If we do, you’ll stay in the barracks.”

“I’d rather be here, but recruiting sounds important too.”

“It is, Alistair.  We don’t have enough wardens.  The king will send to Orlais should the worst happen and a Blight begin, but we’ll be the vanguard.  We need more wardens.  I have Joining supplies for eight or ten more wardens.  We need to choose carefully.”

“How do you choose?  I mean, you must have thought Crispin could survive>”

“I did, but it’s guess work.  Strong character plays an important part in my choice, not just skills.  Honestly, I worried about Eryhn, but she proved stronger than I expected.  I’m glad, as she’s a fine warrior.  I felt confident about you.  Peryndel and Crispin I thought could go either way.  It’s a rare Joining where all survive.  And sometimes those we think strongest fail.  It’s never a sure thing.”

“I see.  Well, I’ll have to evaluate those recruits carefully then.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Alistair took the list of nobles and banns Duncan wanted to visit after Satinalia and sat at Duncan’s map table.  He lit the lantern  and hung it on a tent pole above the table.  Duncan had decided to remain at Ostagar for a few more weeks and then head back to Denerim.  The city would be quiet during Satinalia with the king and queen away.  He planned on scouting for recruits among the commoners, the prisoners at Ft. Drakon and the elves of the Alienage.  They would leave before the royal family returned in Firstfall to recruit in the Bannorn and Arlings.  Duncan had tasked Alistair with devising the shortest route for their trip.

The long list of banns and nobles included the Arls of South Reach, Southron Hills, West Hills, Redcliffe and Amaranthine.  He felt sure he could avoid the Arl and Arlessa in Redcliffe.  To his dismay, however, Highever and Higheverport were also on the list.  Maybe I can avoid seeing anyone if we stay in the city.  He frowned, noticing the obvious omission.  _I wonder why he doesn’t go to Gwaren?  Won’t Teyrn Loghain allow it?_ He recalled the Teyrn’s derogatory comments about grey wardens.  _Strange, but it simplifies things._   _My task is complicated enough without adding several weeks to visit Gwaren._

He decided to map the route from one Arling to the next and then add the bannorns.  He sighed, there were many bannorns.  Bann Sighard at Dragon’s Peak would be first, on the way to South Reach from Denerim.  Bann Sighard’s keep stood on the opposite side of the village from the monastery.  _I won_ _’t see anyone I know there._   Arl Bryland at South Reach and Arl Neruda at his keep in the Southron Hills would follow.  Bann Ceorlic of the Southern Bannorn would be next at his manor near Lothering.  Then Redcliffe and south to visit Arl Wulff in West Hills.  From there they would head up the west side of Lake Calenhad to Bann Teagan at Rainesfere and Bann Alfstanna at Waking Sea. 

If Duncan decided to visit the dwarves at Orzammar, as he mentioned, they could go from the Imperial Highway on their way to Waking Sea.  That detour will take an extra ten days, at least.  After Waking Sea they would turn east again.  To see Bann Loren they would have to detour south, from the Docks on Lake Calenhad to River Dane’s Keep just east of the Tower of Magi.  _That’s another week.  Longer if we add Kinloch Hold.  We should, if we’re that close.  Duncan said he wanted more mages._ Alistair thought for a moment, remembering Duncan’s comment about the mages Teyrn Cousland had sent to Ostagar to help.  _Unless he plans to recruit them in Highever._   Alistair put West Hill and then Higheverport next on the list followed by Castle Cousland.  From there they could go to White River and Amaranthine City.  Their final stop would be Vigil’s Keep, the Arl of Amaranthine’s holding.

A few of the Banns rarely visited their holdings.  Those Duncan could speak with in Denerim before they left.  He would carry orders for the seneschals to allow him to recruit.  Duncan had already mentioned Bann Reginalda, of White River and Bann Franderel of West Hills as two he would visit in Denerim during Harvestmere.  Arl Howe would be at Highever for Satinalia, so they would visit him or his seneschal at the Vigil.  Duncan said he had little hope of success for recruits from Amaranthine or Vigil’s Keep, but he would try again with the Arl.  Arl Kendalls of Denerim, on the other hand, had helped sponsor the Chantry tournament and given Duncan open access to Fort Drakon and the Alienage whenever he needed to recruit.  Duncan would speak with Arl Kendalls, if necessary, during their Denerim stay in Harvestmere.

Alistair calculated the basic travel time for the circuit, assuming he and Duncan could travel thirty miles a day on horseback.  He knew that was ambitious in winter, but for two men in good shape, not unreasonable.  The length of the trip still surprised him.  _It will take us two months, if we skip Orzammar and Kinloch Hold.  Maker I hope the snows aren’t bad this year._

Duncan seemed pleased with Alistair’s plan.  It’s helpful to have a well-educated assistant.  His brothers in Orlais did not send their most talented wardens to Ferelden.  Most who came were, like him, poor, ill-educated men who knew how to fight, but not read, figure and plan.  

“We’ll skip Kinloch Hold this trip.  I’ll return in the spring.  I don’t think we need to visit Orzammar either on this trip.  We’ll get there next time,” Duncan added, noticing Alistair look of disappointment.  “It’s worth seeing, when we have more time.  “You’re doing well, Alistair.  I’ll admit I’m surprised.  Keep it up.”

In spite of himself, Alistair felt pleased at the praise.  He enjoyed the company of the other wardens, his friendship with Eryhn and Pery and, now, Duncan seemed to accept him.  It had been a long time since he had felt so comfortable with his situation.  He even enjoyed his conversations with Fergus.  The young nobleman rarely spoke of the past unless Alistair introduced it first.  Anecdotes about Oren and his wife were as personal as Fergus got.  _Careful boy, don’t let your guard down._   He heard the little voice of warning, but decided to ignore it.  Things were definitely looking brighter.

**9:29 Dragon  18 Kingsway  ===  Ostagar**

A few days later, Alistair regretted not listening to his little voice, not that he could have avoided the meeting.  He sat in Duncan’s tent compiling a supply list with two of the other wardens.  The next morning two wardens would head north to Lothering with pack mules to pick up supplies for the next month.  The three wardens looked up as someone barged into the tent.

“Duncan isn’t here?”

The two wardens looked to Alistair, as Duncan’s adjutant, to respond.

“Teyrn Loghain.”  Alistair stood and bowed.  “Welcome to Ostagar.  No, Your Grace, Warden Commander Duncan is with a patrol today.”

Loghain looked startled for a moment, then glared at Alistair.

“Warden Alistair.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Fergus said you had become Duncan’s right hand.”

“I serve as ordered, Your Grace.”

Loghain turned his glare to the other two wardens.  “Leave us.  I would speak with Warden Alistair alone.”

The two wardens glanced at Alistair, who gave an almost imperceptible shrug, and they left.

“At least you’re still in Ferelden.”

“Where else would I be, Your Grace.  I’m part of the Ferelden Wardens.”

“Orlais.  No one’s mentioned sending you to Orlais?”

“No, Your Grace.”

“Good.  At least you’re alive.”

“I though perhaps that was the plan, Your Grace.  Send me to the wardens and I disappear.”

Loghain sighed and shook his head.  “No, Alistair, that was never the plan.  Though Maker knows, the way our plans kept failing, it’s a wonder you did make it through.”

“You had a message for the Warden Commander, Your Grace?”

“Not really.  I just wanted a report.”  He stared at the grown man standing before him.  He recalled their last meeting.  “Still angry with me?”

“Angry, Your Grace?  No.  I just prefer to follow warden protocol and leave my past well behind me.  This is my life now.  The wardens my brothers and sisters.”

“So, Duncan is your father figure?”  Loghain’s lips twitched, but he did not smile. 

“I have no father figure, Your Grace.  I wouldn’t know what to look for never having had a father.”

A look of pain flashed across Loghain’s face.

“No, I suppose not,” he replied quietly.  “Alistair-

"-please don’t Your Grace.  I don’t want to hear how everyone tried, but it just didn’t work out.  I’m afraid I have a hard time believing the plans of two kings and the Hero of River Dane could always go awry.  I’m grateful to Duncan.  He did what the rest of you did not.”

Loghain stood quietly just looking at Alistair.  _He doesn’t know Cailan had a part in this, but it’s not up to me to tell him.  He’s right, our timing was horrendous, but not intentionally so.  He won’t believe that.  I didn’t want to believe my own words, but he is lost to us._

“We never wanted you dead Alistair, but I can’t prove to you that we meant well and failed.  Just…be careful.  The wardens, the Warden Commander, may not be as honorable as you seem to think they are.  Orlesian influence may be greater than you think.”

Alistair grimaced.  _Of course, Orlais._   “I’ll consider your warning, Your Grace.  Now, is there a message for Warden Commander Duncan?  Should I tell him you wish to see him?”

“Just tell him I hope to speak with him later, Alistair.”  Loghain turned to leave and then stopped.  He looked over his shoulder.  “Take care, son.”

Alistair watched the Teyrn lift the flap and walk out.  He stood quite still hearing Loghain’s final words in head.  _Stop it.  He doesn’t think of you as his son._   _He’s just fooling with you.  He never cared.  You wouldn’t be here now if he did._

“Alistair.”

He jumped to attention.  “Warden Commander.  Sorry, I was distracted.”

“Was that Teyrn Loghain I saw leaving?”

“Does someone else resemble the Teyrn?”  Alistair’s flippant response surprised Duncan.  “Sorry, Warden Commander.  Yes, it was the Teyrn.  He said he hoped to speak with you later.”

“Serge said he asked him to leave so he could speak with you.”

“He did.  He had nothing of importance to say.  Just said he was glad I made it through.” 

Duncan raised an eyebrow.

“That’s all he said.”

“That’s troubling.  It might be that King Maric shared some secrets with him.  Don’t worry Warden, you did nothing wrong.  I’ll speak with him later.  Go on and find your friends for supper.  You can finish the supply list in the morning before Wardens Serge and Thibault leave.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Alistair returned from supper early.  He had spoken with Serge and Thibault during the meal to finish the supply list.  He had notes on his wax tablet and wanted to finish the list he had left on Duncan’s camp desk.  Duncan had not been at supper, though, so voices from the Warden Commander’s tent did not surprise him.

“Blight, pah!” a voice shouted.  “That’s your excuse to let Orlesian wardens and chevaliers into Ferelden.  I won’t allow it, Duncan.”

“I assure you, Teyrn Loghain, wardens can sense darkspawn movements.  We know what signifies the awakening of an Archdemon.  All the signs are there.”

“The darkspawn activity has diminished.”  Loghain’s voice had returned to a more conversational level. 

“It always does in winter, Teyrn Loghain.  The other Blights have been farther north, but in the mountains warden records show activity lessened in winter.”

“Last year it diminished after Satinalia, Loghain,” another voice added.

 _That’s Fergus.  I shouldn’t listen._   Alistair stood in the shadows between his tent, several yards away, and Duncan’s.  He didn’t move.

“You take his side now Fergus?”

“Loghain.”  Fergus sounded tired and frustrated.  “I’m not sure there’s a Blight, but all the facts Duncan has noted are accurate.  I can’t speak for his senses.”

Alistair heard Loghain snort.  “Just so I am understood.  There will be no Orlesians allowed into Ferelden.  Do you understand Warden Commander?”

“I understand that is your wish, Teyrn Mac Tir.”

Alistair imagined Loghain’s eyes narrowing into a glare.  “The best thing that has happened is Cailan’s staying away from your damn compound.  You took the boy, but it might save the king.”

“Loghain!”  Fergus hissed.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean Alistair is lost to us.  If Cailan recovers from his worship of these wardens some good might come of this mess.”

“Teyrn Mac Tir, I assure you we have no hold over King Cailan.  Nor do we desire one.”

Alistair stepped back into the shadows behind Duncan’s tent when he heard the scrape of chairs and boots stamping on the ground.  Loghain stalked out.  Fergus remained to speak to Duncan.

“He worries.  His experiences during the Occupation and Rebellion will always color his thoughts.”  Alistair heard Fergus stand.  “I agree with him, however, regarding Orlesians.  Wardens may come, but not one chevalier.  That is King Cailan’s view as well.  The Landsmeet will back the King and Loghain on that.  Perhaps you should make that clear to your Orlesian…counterpart.  And perhaps you should cultivate the Nevarran wardens.  Cumberland is a short sail away.  Ships will not be a problem.  The Haris mercenary company has good relations with the Nevarran wardens if you need an introduction.”

“I’ll take your counsel under advisement, Lord Fergus.”  Duncan sounded soothing.

“See that you do, Warden Commander.  I may not be Teyrn for many years yet, but I have a voice and I’m not a child.  Good evening.”  Fergus’s tone was brusque.

Alistair made his way to his own tent after Fergus left.  He would wait until morning to finish his list.  He put the wax tablet and stylus dinner by his sleeping roll.  He did not completely understand the conversation he had overheard.   He ran through it as he tried to fall asleep.  _Teyrn Loghain thinks the wardens influence King Cailan?  He thinks Duncan might let the wardens bring Orlesian chevaliers into Ferelden.  That makes no sense._   He lay awake staring at the tent above.  _Unless the Orlesian wardens and the chevaliers work together._ He remembered Lys writing that in Nevarra the guards and Hrothgar’s Wrath worked with the wardens.  She had met some on a long ago trip to the Blasted Hills _.  We don’t allow Maric’s Shield to patrol with us._   _Why?_   He shook his head.  It was all too confusing.  Perhaps he could ask Duncan without revealing he had eavesdropped.  He stretched out on his bedroll to sleep.  He would not let the Teyrn or Fergus ruin his adjustment to this new life.  As a warden, even in the face of a Blight, his life was brighter.

**9:29 Dragon  19 Kingsway  ===  Ostagar**

Fergus, carrying his mug of hot tea, greeted Loghain who sat eating porridge by the fire outside his tent.  He motioned Fergus to sit.

“Have you eaten?”

“No, just this tea.”

“Malcolm,” Loghain said to his manservant.  “Bring Fergus a bowl of porridge.  Don’t stint on the syrup.”

“Syrup?”

“Made from the sap of tree in Gwaren.”  Loghain grinned.  “I have a secret sweet tooth.  Anora keeps a supply at the palace.  Delicious.”

Fergus shrugged, “I’ll try anything.”

Loghain laughed.  “You may regret that attitude.”

“Haven’t so far, Teyrn Loghain.”  Fergus took a taste of the porridge, think and creamy with pieces of dried apple and pear and doused with syrup.”  He grinned.  “Delicious.”  He took another spoonful, before continuing.  “Better mood today?”

Loghain gave him a sidelong glance over the rim of his mug.  “Not particularly, if you refer to our Warden Commander.”

Fergus took a deep breath.  “Perhaps you should avoid him for a while.  I leave for Highever in a few days.  Join me, unless you have some pressing business that requires you in Denerim before Satinalia.”

“That’s a tempting proposition.”  Loghain hesitated.  “You’re not stopping in Redcliffe are you?”

“Maker, no!  On horseback the quickest route is through Lothering and up the east side of Lake Calenhad on the West Road.  We can stop at Bann Loren’s for a bed one night, otherwise we camp.  It’s two weeks at best.”

Loghain actually grinned.  “I’m liking your proposition more and more.  I feel much better out of the city.  Yes, I’ll join you   We’ll be ready to leave when you are.”

**9:29 Dragon  25 Kingsway  ===  West Road outside Lothering**

“There’s something I wanted to ask you, Fergus.”  Teyrn Loghain and Fergus rode in a column of Highever guard and a few Gwaren guard on the West Road just past Lothering.

The young man reined in to ride beside the Teyrn.  “Ask away.  I may have answers.”  His grin faded as he saw how serious Loghain had become.

“Your father’s trip to Orlais with Cailan.  Has he spoken to you about it?”

“He has.”

“And what do you think?”

“I think, Teyrn Loghain, that my father and King Cailan successfully sidelined Arl Eamon and pursued a new policy.”

“Sidelined Eamon?  He’s back in Denerim.  He’s still Chancellor.”

“From what Father told me, Eamon spent most of his time in Val Royeaux with Teagan and an Orlesian Lord, Seigneur Guy de Montafilan, planning the Redcliffe Trading Compound.  He didn’t attend the main meetings with Cailan and Father.”  Fergus saw Loghain’s posture tense.  “I know, the merchants have free travel privileges and I find that disturbing, but what Father and King Cailan negotiated does benefit us.”

“How so.”

“Father will provide mining experts to assist the Orlesians in prospecting in the Frostback foothills.  We can watch them.  We’ll know where they mine and what they mine.  If our experts run the mines, we can leave them if relations deteriorate.  Unless they develop their own experts, without us they will fail again.  You and I discussed this, as I recall.  You thought watching them a good idea.”

“We did.”  Loghain replied gruffly, adding, “but, it also brings gold to Highever.”

“Not just Highever.  The mining experts come from all over Ferelden.  Some come from Amaranthine, some from West Hills and some from the bannorns along the west side of Lake Calenhad.”

“I see.”

“What are you thinking?”

“Honestly, Fergus, I don’t know.  It all seemed very…suspicious when I was in Denerim, but now that you explain it, it seems to make sense.  Keep your enemies close is not a bad strategy.”  Loghain rubbed his temple.  “I don’t sleep well in Denerim.  I suffer from headaches.  Once I leave, they go away and I seem to think more clearly.”

Fergus laughed.  “Well, I get headaches in Denerim too.  Mostly when Arl Howe walks into the room, but a few others can be annoying as well.”

Loghain laughed too.  “Howe does have some strange views.”

“I won’t forgive him for how he treated Nate and favored Thom.  Then he’s jealous of father.  Howe won’t welcome him back to Denerim.”

“No, he won’t, but Bryce is his liege, so he will try to hide his discontent.”

“Did you speak to Alistair, Teyrn Loghain?”

“Briefly.”

“He seems content as a warden.”

“He does.  He didn’t say much to me, beyond bowing, welcoming me to Ostagar and asking if I needed anything.”

“Ah.  Still resentful then.”

“He has reason.  I’d hoped…but he’s tied to Duncan now.  Follows him around like a puppy.  I once thought he might make a good officer, but now I’m not sure.  I’m afraid the Chantry took any confidence from him.  I imagine they don’t want templars thinking too much for themselves.”

“No, not even in Highever.  The templars follow their own rigid code of conduct everywhere I think.  Their world is black and white.”  He gave Loghain a sidelong glance.  “Rather like you view of Orlesians, but with less reason.”

Loghain frowned, then chuckled.  “Maker Fergus, why do I tolerate your gibes.  You’re right.  While we have every reason to suspect Orlesians, there’s no reason to suspect every mage.”

“Maybe not every Orlesian.  Father said he met some pleasant young nobles from Lydes and Verchiel.  Those lands are far from Val Royeaux.”

“Close to Ferelden.  And if your father met them, they must have been in Val Royeaux.”

“True.”

“This doesn’t have to do with betrothals does it?”

Fergus looked genuinely surprised.  “Betrothals?”

“Yes.  Cailan suggested to Howe that he find a husband for Delilah in Orlais.  Howe thinks he’s suggested the same to your father and Philip Broughten.”

Lys, married to an Orlesian?”  He reined in and almost stopped.  “You have met my sister?”

Loghain slowed to keep pace.  “I have.  And like Anora, if she thought it her duty, she would attack the Void.”

“That’s…true.”  Fergus stared ahead without speaking for a while as they resumed their pace.  “Mum and Da had a huge fight before I left.  No…he would never force a betrothal on Lys.”  Again he rode silently.  “But he might ask her to consider it”

“Particularly if his King requested it?”

“Yes.  He would do as King Cailan asked.   She would too, if she thought Cailan asked it of her.  Father has to follow the King’s policy now, as Cailan’s Foreign Minister.”

“He can influence it as well, but once it’s agreed he does if he wants to remain in favor.”

“Marriages are a diplomatic tool, Teyrn Loghain.  It doesn’t mean King Cailan or my father favor Orlais.  It means they want peaceful relations.”

“Tell yourself that Fergus, when your sister becomes Dame Lydes or Verchiel or wherever.”

“We’ll have a spy in their midst.”

“A young woman alone among enemies?  Just how much do you think she will see?  How safe do you think she will be once she gives them heirs?  This won’t be like your Oriana coming to Ferelden, Fergus.  Better she should marry in Nevarra, the Marches or Antiva.”

“What does Anora think?’

“We haven’t spoken of it.  With Habren married, Lys, Delilah and Philippa are the most eligible young women in  Ferelden.  I can’t imagine she would want to lose even one of them to Orlais.  Perhaps you should speak to her when she arrives in Highever.”

“You should speak to Mum.  If that’s what caused the argument between her and Da, she’s not happy either.”

“I may.  Eleanor may be the most level headed, intelligent person I know.”

Fergus laughed.  “Da usually says that too, until she gets angry at him.  I can only hope he listens to her about this, if it’s true.”

The two rode in a companionable silence for the next few miles.  The day remained clear and cool.  Their camp the previous night had been at the point where the road turned north some miles inland from the east shore of Lake Calenhad.  To the west, marshland intruded into the forest and farmland.  To the east, a low range of hills screened the road from the rest of the Bannorn.  Birch, beech ash and maple mixed with hemlock and Fereldan pine.  Birdsong had filled the morning, but quieted as mid-day approached.  Still the occasional chickadee whistled it’s complex song and the tree branches and understory rustled with squirrels and other small animals gathering the last of the fall harvest of nuts and fruits.  Cleared plots showed evidence of lumber harvests.  The mill on the river running out of Lake Lothering into Lake Calenhad, a day’s travel behind them, had been busy when they rode past.  Fergus knew more small farmholds would appear farther along as they approached River Dane, Bann Loren’s bannorn and then diminish as Kinloch Hold came into view.

The group had more than a week’s travel before reaching Highever.  Two weeks, if an early snowstorm came upon them as they crossed the Coast Range.  _I hope Loghain is wrong about the betrothals.  Setting Cailan and Father against Mum, Anora, Loghain and Lys would not make for a happy celebration._  Fergus thought over the past year.  He recalled Philippa and a young Orlesian lord with heads together at a Guild function.  Philippa had barely looked at the young men presented to her after Nathaniel left.  Her friendliness to Lord…de Montafilan, that was it, Guy de Montafilan, should have alerted him.  He was the same lord who helping Teagan set up the Redcliffe compound.  _I just thought she was being courteous to a guest._   _Did Lys know Pippa might marry in Orlais?_  

 _Maker’_ _s Fat Fingers, I_ _’d been looking forward to this Satinalia.  Maybe I should have stayed at Ostagar.  Or taken Oriana and Oren to Antiva._   There’s a thought.  “Would you like to go to Antiva for Satinalia?  We can pick up Lys, Oren and Oriana on the way.”

Loghain stared at him, not understanding at first, and then burst out laughing.  “Not a bad plan Fergus.  Escape.  Although the last time I was there your sister and I fought a group of assassins.”

“Right.  So, Cumberland then.  It’s closer.”

“Coward.”

“Well, looking on the bright side then, at least Howe won’t be at Highever.”

“Oh, but he will.  Delilah decided to stay with Anora rather than go to the Vigil.  So Howe will come with Cailan’s party.”

“The bright side’s getting harder to find, Teyrn Loghain.”

**9:29 Dragon  25 Kingsway    ===   Denerim**

“You’ll come with me to Highever for Satinalia, Nicephorus.  You can play my Tevinter notary as you do here.  They think Demetrius is the only Magister I have in my household now.  They believe he remains at the Vigil when I travel.”  Arl Howe lounged behind his desk, his chair tipped back and his foot against the desk’s edge.  “If, as you say, Loghain will become free of your influence by staying away for so long, we cannot wait until he returns after Satinalia.”

“As you wish, My Lord.  I am no Somniari wandering the Fade finding dreaming mundanes.  I need to be near the target.  Access to the Teyrn’s sleeping quarters, such as that in Gwaren House, is perfect.  Can we manage that in Highever?  And what about the Cousland’s house mage?  I’ll need to stay away from her.”

“I thought you had a masking spell to hide your magic?”

“It works when I walk the streets and pass a templar or another mage.  Even if an apostate discovered me, it’s unlikely they would say anything and endanger themselves.  It may not work, however, with a powerful mage I see every day.  Avoidance will be better.  Not to mention, she may also sense the blood magic I use on Teyrn Loghain.”

“Then perhaps she will have to be called away or…dealt with.  Annoying complication.  The Couslands are foolishly fond of their retainers.  An accident would have to be well planned.  They would investigate.  No more Rivaini bandits.”  Rendon Howe sat up suddenly, allowing the chair to right itself with a thud.  “I’ll find out if Loghain’s room can be accessed.  I have…contacts…within the castle.  As with most old buildings it too has passages.  None extend to the family wing, unfortunately.  If they did I would have you convince the girl she must marry Thomas.  We’ll arrange for the mage to be called away.  She’s a healer and midwife.  Surely some unfortunate creature will be giving birth at that time.”

“You have a spy.”  Nicephorus stated.

“Several.  A guard and a…servant at the castle and another guard and servant at the keep.  All four have been there for many years.”

“They’re in senior positions.”

Howe held Nicephorus’ gaze.  “They’ll not be found out.  Over that time, I think they’ve found every secret passage way and vault in the castle, the keep and the city.  Many passages have been blocked over the years, but that can be overcome. Since the Occupation, with no threats, guards become lax and impediments disappear.”  Howe waved his hands as he spoke.  “Guests stay in an older part of the castle.  We’ll get you close.”

“Why would there be so many passages?”  Nicephorus’ natural curiosity got the best of him.  Asking too many questions of Rendon Howe was not wise.    

Howe smiled.  He seemed to welcome the query.  “Higheverport began as a smugglers haven, you know, being so close to Kirkwall.  They smuggled escaped slaves in Tevinter days.  I suspect the Couslands may have been slaves once.  The old records have the original couple appearing out of nowhere to claim the ancient Cousland farmhold.  They had papers which proved they were distant cousins of the deceased freeman.  I wish I could prove it, but I could never find a record of this Jadyn and Melys Cousland anywhere else in Thedas.  It’s too long ago.  ”

“Perhaps in Tevinter?  Or perhaps, as you say, they were not Couslands and used forged papers.”

“My mother tried to trace them through her family in Perivantium.  Nothing.  No record of Cousland relations in what is now Nevarra, which is what the couple claimed.”  Howe snarled.  “My family were banns, when the Couslands were slaves.  I’d love to confront Bryce with that at a Landsmeet.  Prove the original claim false.  I’d look a right fool with no proof.”  He settled back in his chair.  “There are simpler ways to deal with the Couslands.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Later that evening, Howe, the hood of his cape pulled low over his forehead, slipped out a back door of the Gnawed Noble.  He slipped from shadow to shadow, making his way across the now quiet market.  He reached his destination and knocked on the door of a small house near the Chantry.  A Qunari guard let him in.

“Ah, my sweet, I didn’t expect you tonight.”  Marjolaine was reading by the fire.   She sat on a settle with an upholstered seat cushion, her feet on a hassock.    Rendon Howe sat down beside her.

“I wanted to see you before I left for Amaranthine and then Castle Cousland.  I was hoping to convince you to come back to The Keep with me.”

“And what will Dame Esmerelle think if I am with you, chérie?  She is the jealous type, no?” 

“We won’t go to the city.”

“Ah, I am so sorry.  I need to stay here to work out some problems at the Trading Compound.  Amaranthine runs perfectly, but here,” she shrugged and pursed her lips, “always problems when a new shipment arrives.  I think I solved the Jader end, but I must assure delivery here.”

“Too bad.  I’ll have to make do with…others then.  So much less satisfying.”  He smirked.  

“You will be away for several weeks, no?”  Marjolaine ran a finger along his jawline.  “I need wax impressions of the Teyrn’s seal, his personal seal.  I also need some blank parchment or vellum, whichever he uses for his correspondence.  I’ll need them for those documents you want me to have made.”

“I’ll see what I can do, but you have samples of his letters to me.”

“I do and they provide the ribbons I need to duplicate, but ‘tis easier to use his writing stock, than try to match it.  A wax impression of his seal will make a much better copy, than one from a wax seal which has been cracked and broken.”

“Ah, of course.  I see.”

“I’ll give you wax, a special type which my contact uses for such purposes.”

“His seal is on a ring, which he always wears.”

“Ah, well then copy a newly sealed letter with an unbroken imprint.  Just press the wax into it.  Reversing the image will only add a step to the process.”

“How is it you know so much?”

“I’m a merchant.  We do this sort of thing all the time to sabotage our competitors.  Discrediting others is part of trade.  That’s what you plan, no?  To discredit the Teyrn in the eyes of the King and your Landsmeet?”

“Of course,” Howe replied smoothly.  “He’s becoming too powerful.  King Cailan must be dissuaded from these Orlesian alliances.  He no longer listens to counsel from Teyrn Loghain and me.”

“And you, will you be dissuaded from _this_ Orlesian alliance?”  She turned to face him on the settle, running a finger across his lips.

Howe chuckled.  “Marjolaine, you live here now.  You’re a trader, not a politician.  I have no problem trading with Orlais.   Eamon Guerrin and now Bryce Cousland lead King Cailan down the path towards Orlesian domination.  Cousland could succeed where Eamon might have failed.  He has credibility with his followers because he fought in the Rebellion and was a friend to King Maric.  I will not let that happen.”

“So this is not about expanding your power, only keeping Ferelden free.”

“Of course.  It’s what I fought for as a youth and what I fight for now, along with Teyrn Loghain.  We must convince the Landsmeet, the King, and the Queen that Cousland plots behind King Cailan’s back.  That he looks to set himself upon the throne with Orlais’ help.  He tried once before and failed; now he tries again, with Orlesian support, by seeming to support the King.”

“How commendable.”  Marjolaine ran a finger around his ear.  _I will have to tread carefully here.  I fear his ambitions go beyond discrediting the Teyrn.  More important to our plans, I fear he will act too quickly._   Marjolaine leaned forward to kiss the Arl, still thinking.  _Would he harm the Couslands?  Do I underestimate his ambition?_   No, he’s greedy for gold and influence, but he gains neither by harming his liege.  The king would condemn such an act.  

From her recent meeting with Briala in Jader, Marjolaine had learned that the Empress wanted Ferelden thrown into discord for the autumn Landsmeet, but not before.  First the marriages must be approved by the spring Landsmeet and happen on Summerday.   The Empress would attend the ceremonies in Highever and then visit Denerim.  Once she returned to Orlais, Arl Howe’s letters would provide evidence of the too close relationship between the Teyrn, Arl Broughton and the Empress’s ministers.  They would show Cousland to be trying for the throne again.  The evidence against his liege would be presented, reluctantly, by Arl Howe, whose opposition to Orlais was well known.  

Marjolaine considered the plan tenuous at best.  It depended on the volatility of the Ferelden Bannorn.  Briala expected the land to splinter along lines of ancient loyalties to the Couslands, Howes, and southern arls.  Many would follow the lead of the Hero of River Dane and his historic hatred of anything Orlesian.  A partnership between Teyrn Mac Tir and Howe had begun to form.  The King would be left alone trying to reconcile his growing belief in diplomacy and trade with his memories of Teyrn Cousland opposing him at his father’s death. 

After her friendly visit to Denerim in Bloomingtide, the Empress would appear to be a safe port in the storm.  She would gain credibility and provide more proof of Cousland’s perfidy when she punished her own ministers for plotting with the Teyrn.  That would be the masterstroke.  The King would come to her for aid, the chevaliers would spread out from bases in Redcliffe and Jader and the Fereldan sheep would return to the Orlesian fold.

 _It cannot be rushed_.  _I will have to control my Arl or the trap will be sprung too soon._

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Arl Howe left Marjolaine’s a few hours later.  Physically sated, he felt the prickles of suspicion about his lover.  _I should be careful.  Her contacts seem too talented.  Could she be more than a merchant?  I think I must deal with her forger directly._ He made a mental not to have her house watched, both the basement exit and that above ground.

Howe returned to the Gnawed Noble, where he had left his guard drinking in the back room.  As far as they knew his assignation was in one of the private rooms.  He had a few more drinks at a table by himself.  He had been patient for many years.  Now he wanted to act.  He deserved the power and influence.

He had honest wealth from trade with Orlais, through the Amaranthine Trade Compound, and Tevinter.  He earned even more from the illicit slave trade.  After a decade, the orphanage produced a steady stream of elves. The anchorage just offshore from the orphanage remained a secret mooring.  The old smugglers tunnels from The Vigil to the coast remained undiscovered.  Elves who came to work at The Keep could so easily disappear with no trace through the underground passages to the orphanage and the ships.

Howe had re-opened mines in Amaranthine after seeing the success Bryce.  They did not rival the production of Cousland’s mines in the Coast Range, but they were a start.  He had begun to train his own experts, after enticing a few from Highever to come work for him.  He had even promised one to Bryce for his Orlesian contract. The ore trade with Tevinter had begun to make a small profit. 

Finally, he had the income from the ceramic container he sent to the Magister in Tevinter every two months.  Even Magisters Demetrius and Nicephorus did not know what that held.  He smiled.  _My greatest coup.  My perfect revenge._ _But it is not enough._

 _I will have more._   _Loghain will do my bidding_.  The coven of blood mages hidden in the warehouse district by the docks would ensure that.   Howe still could not believe his luck.  How could the Teyrn have overlooked a passage opening into his study and bedroom.  Then again, the rooms had not been used as a bedroom by prior Teyrns.  More likely they had been a solar and study for the Teyrna.  And more luck.  _Bryce has done me the favor of seeing Eamon discredited.  I could become the next Chancellor if Eamon oversteps again._

Assuming the Orlesian  betrothals for Cousland and Broughten happen, Delilah will be the Queen’s head Lady.  Another favor from Bryce and Cailan.  He experienced a flicker of doubt.  _Delilah is not as obedient as Thomas._   Then he relaxed.  She would obey because she feared him.  She did not want to suffer Nathaniel’s fate.  He believed she suspected his involvement in the attack on her cousins and brother in Markham.

 _I can’t oppose those weddings too loudly._   _With them, everything falls into place_.  He believed the seeds of doubt would be sown at the Guardian Landsmeet when they asked the Bannorn to approve the Orlesian matches.  _I can act after the Summerday weddings._   _I’ll claim I discovered Cousland and Broughten conspiring with the Orlesian visitors, while everyone was distracted by the celebrations.  My Vigil’s Shield will arrest them or perhaps they will resist too fiercely.  Either way, I’ll have the documents and witnesses to prove Bryce a traitor._   Life indeed looked bright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading whether or not you review, fav or follow, I appreciate you. I hope you continue to read and enjoy.
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eyes. Her astute comments improve every post. Any errors are all mine. Thanks to all who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. I do love reviews and welcome comments, encouragement, suggestions and critiques. 
> 
> Special thanks to all of you who reviewed or commented: clafount, Mike3207, KatDancer, caraine, Eastern Violet, mackillian, and SnowHelm. You make me think and sometimes change my approach. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback.


	58. Pairings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:29 Harvestmere and Satinalia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world. I sometimes incorporate game dialogue, although not usually in its original context. Either way, that dialogue belongs to Bioware.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

"Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…"  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 58: PAIRINGS**

* * *

  **9:29 Dragon Solace === Castle Cousland**

“You’re suggesting an Orlesian marriage! Do you want Lys to go to Areth permanently?” Eleanor Cousland wanted to yell, but whispered through clenched teeth. She did not want this conversation overheard.

“Ellie.”

“Don’t, Bryce. Don’t Ellie me. This is our daughter you plan to sell off.” She remained standing in front of her husband's desk.

Bryce took a deep breath, but stayed seated. “Eleanor, I agreed to discuss it with her and have her meet the young man. Nothing more.”

“Cailan agreed to that?” Eleanor’s green eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms.

“Cailan and Lord de Rievaulx agreed.”

“I suppose he’s a fine young man, well suited to our daughter.”

“He is.”

“And you don’t find that suspicious?”

“I did, but I spent several days in his company. I think I would have detected a false note in that time.” He twisted his signet a sure sign of unease which Eleanor noticed. “Now that I’ve told you, we can involve Samuel. I’ll go to Cumberland to speak with him and assuage any concerns about this mining contract. I’ll ask him to use Haris operatives to check out the boy and his family.

“That, at least, makes sense. You should have stopped on your way home.”

“Cailan wanted to, but not with Eamon and Teagan on board.”

“No, that would be unwise, I see.” Eleanor relented and sat down. “I agree with your plans to see Samuel. I just wish it wasn’t necessary.”

“When Lord de Rievaulx comes here for the mining discussions in Kingsway and Harvestmere, you can judge him for yourself.”

“Bryce, just having him here will set everyone talking. The heir of the Duc de Lydes?” She leaned forward, placing her hands on his desk. “The father is a cousin of the Empress isn’t he? The boy will inherit?”

“Yes, but Denis is Seigneur de Rievaulx at present. He has his own manor outside Val Royeaux and his own establishments in Lydes. Officially, he’s the Empress’s representative for mining discussions. He will work with our experts. He simply won’t return home for Satinalia. He knows Cailan from the king’s visits to Val Royeaux. They’re of an age. It will not seem odd that he stays. His presence here will not be specific to Lys.”

“Is he a Chevalier?”

“Yes, but I suggested he not wear the armor while here. He agreed. He understood how it could be inflammatory.” He leaned back in his chair.

“I don’t like it Bryce. It’s one thing if Pippa marries in Orlais. That will be unpopular, but not, as you say, inflammatory. Marrying both of them to Orlesians looks like a Highever conspiracy, you do realize that.”

“Our King wishes these marriages to take place, Eleanor. It’s not my initiative. Cailan wanted Delilah married in Orlais as well.”

“What did Rendon say to that?”

“No.”

“So, of course you had to say maybe.”

“I answered our King. Howe had nothing to do with it.”

“Rendon is nothing if not patient, Bryce. Suppose he still wants her for Thomas? He may speak up if he hears of a betrothal to another. You ignore him at our peril.”

“Let’s not get on that subject tonight. He can be an ass, but he’s a loyal vassal. He hasn’t mentioned Lys and Thomas for years.” Bryce sighed. Eleanor had disliked the Arl since the Rebellion. He tolerated Rendon in spite of Howe’s posturing with his oversized contingent of Vigil’s Shield accompanying him. He had Tevinter magisters, Markham notaries, and flunkies of questionable provenance on his staff. Granted he had improved Amaranthine’s trade over the years, but he had more hangers on than any other Fereldan noble. In spite of it all, he and Rendon were friends of a sort. They had fought together and that formed a bond that lasted a lifetime.

“Bryce!”

He looked up to find Eleanor staring at him in exasperation.

“Sorry. Thinking about Rendon. I don’t see any change in him. He’s understandably sensitive about Orlais, since Tarleton supported Meghren. Amaranthine suffered for that from both sides. Rendon has worked hard to make his loyalties clear. He supports the Trade Compound in Amaranthine, but allows Esmerelle to manage keeping him at arm’s length from the Orlesians. It’s certainly made Esmerelle wealthy and he takes his cut. I can understand why he would reject an Orlesian alliance. He doesn’t want to rekindle old animosities. ”

“He hardly has to,” Eleanor scoffed. “He kindles enough of his own.”

Bryce pinched the bridge of his nose, but couldn’t stifle a chuckle. “Ellie, enough of Rendon. I’m telling you about Lord de Rievaulx.   I did not want to surprise you with this when he arrives, but his visit is not negotiable. Seigneur… _Lord_ Denis, as he will be known here, will arrive in Kingsway and stay with us. He will join us for Satinalia and Lys will meet him. _If_ they get, along I will discuss a betrothal with her.”

“Then let’s hope they do not get along.” Eleanor snapped, crossing her arms again. “Does Anora know about this?”

“I don’t know. I doubt it, but Cailan didn’t say.”

“So much for a pleasant Satinalia. Loghain, Howe, Orlesians, all the makings of a tempest. If we’re very lucky the Waking Sea will reward us with a blizzard, we’ll be at each other’s throats by the fourth day, and be found dead in our beds when they dig us out.”

Bryce watched his wife stalk out and then went to this cabinet to get the fine Antivan brandy the Falanni’s sent each year. He looked forward to Firstfall when this would all be over.

**29 Dragon   Kingsway === Castle Cousland**

Lord Denis de Rievaulx arrived in Highever on 16 Kingsway in the year 29 Dragon. Much to her dismay, Teyrna Eleanor Cousland liked the young nobleman. She reviewed her list of traits she required in a suitor for Lys.  Tall? Yes he stood more than a hand span taller than Lys.  Not slender, but not overly muscular either.  He moved well, gracefully but with purpose.  Brown hair, not as dark as Lys', which she guessed would lightened in the sun. Such wonderful hands, strong but with slender fingers.  _Maker I sound like a young girl gushing over her first beau._   A nice face, handsome, one you would notice with its straight nose and grey eyes under arched brows.  His mouth was expressive.  When not speaking he would purse his lips or bite the side of his full lower lip.  He wore no beard.  His long hair was pulled back into a simple queue.  Were he a Marcher, an Antivan, or a Nevarran, she would not think twice about introducing him to her daughter.

At first, his manner, in Eleanor’s view, bordered on pretentious. To his credit, Denis soon learned that, while the Couslands were respected, they did not demand the deference expected by Orlesians of equal standing. That the Teyrna knew the Guild masters and the wool business interested him. His father’s land supported many shepherds. He asked to learn more, winning grudging respect from Eleanor with his intelligent questions and observations.

That Jadyn and Oren warmed to him surprised Eleanor more. Denis gained Oriana’s approval by playing with Oren, saying Oren reminded him of his nephews at home. He treated the castle staff well and did not condescend to the townsfolk as many Orlesians did.  

Eleanor found some defects. He over dressed for everything at first.   What had been simple attire in Val Royeaux, proved elegant in Highever. He sometimes wore a mask, saying he was simply uncomfortable without it. While he treated the staff well, his expectations of them often exceeded those required by the Couslands. Nyla definitely made him uncomfortable. He was unused to living in a household with unsupervised mages. Eleanor wondered how he would react to Kailian. He had definite attitudes about elves and their place. The openness of the Highever Alienage shocked him. He had difficulty dealing with the Highever elves in their businesses, always asking for the ‘proprietor’ only to find the elf facing him owned the business.

“I’ll be interested to see how he and Fergus will get along,” Eleanor said to Bryce as they prepared for bed.

“He likes to ride, he’s a good swordsman and excellent crossbowman, he loves to hunt, and he has led his father’s guard. Oren and Oriana like him. He and Fergus will get along fine.” Bryce climbed into their bed. “You like him. The question is will Lys like him.”

“I do, although I keep looking for him to strike that false note.” She suddenly grinned. “Does he like music?”

“I have no idea. We haven’t had a musical evening since he arrived. He dances. I do know that.”

Eleanor mouth fell into a disappointed moue. “I’d hoped…music is important to Lys. I’m not sure if I want him to be musical or to hate it, so she’ll say no.”

“Ellie, Cailan wants this. If Lys says no, he won’t be happy regardless of what he agreed. We may lose any position we’ve gained in the past year. Cailan will take it personally.”

“So Lys saying no endangers all of us? Will you tell her that?”

“Do you think I’ll have to. She’s the one at Court.”

“No. She’ll understand perfectly. She’ll do her _duty.”_ Bitterness tinged Eleanor’s voice.

“Lydes is not so far away, Ellie.”

Eleanor slipped beneath the covers and snuggled against Bryce.

“I want it to be good, Bryce. As it’s been for us. As it is for Fergus and Oriana.”

“What other match can you propose?”

She was very quiet.

Finally, Bryce, asked again. “Ellie, what match do you want to consider?”

“Gwaren needs an heir.”

Bryce raised himself on an elbow and stared at his wife. “Loghain?”

Eleanor did not speak, letting Bryce think it through.

“You want me to give her the two options? I’d have to speak to Loghain first. It’s…she looks on him like an uncle. I can’t imagine her liking the idea of marriage.”

“At least it would be a choice.”

“Let me think about it. I have no idea how Cailan and Anora would take it.”

“I think Anora would approve.”

“You’ve spoken to her?”

“No. Just intuition. She’s worried about Gwaren.” She frowned. “Even Cailan will admit Gwaren needs an heir. We all might think he’s indestructible, but Loghain won’t live forever. Lys would make a wonderful Teyrna.”

Bryce rolled on his back, an arm across his forehead. “How long have you been thinking of this?”

“Not long enough, apparently. Talk to Fergus and see what he thinks. He’s good with Cailan; he can speak with the king. You can approach Loghain. I know it’s not perfect, but so little is, it seems.”

Bryce sighed. “I’ll give it some thought, although I doubt Cailan will agree. Fergus should arrive in a week or two. I’ll see what he thinks.” He settled back down and slipped an arm around his wife. “It would be nice to keep her here. Gwaren’s further than Lydes, though, you do realize that.”

Eleanor snuggled into the curve of his body as rolled on his side and put his arm around her. “Umm…..but it’s Ferelden.”

**29 Dragon 16 Harvestmere ===   Castle Cousland**

Fergus Cousland, Loghain Mac Tir, and their troops entered Castle Cousland’s baily on a cold, snowy day in Harvestmere. A storm had come in off the Waking Sea two days before just as they exited the pass through the Coast Range. Their ride through the foothills towards Higheverport had been bone chilling and slow. Everyone looked forward to hot food, warm baths, and a roof over their heads.

The troops turned toward the stables leading Fergus and Loghain’s mounts. Once the horses were stabled, they could head to the barracks and the baths. Fergus and Loghain approached the castle entrance, shaking snow off their cloaks. Seneschal Mowrey greeted them there.

“My Lord Fergus, welcome. We worried that you were caught in the pass. It’s good to have you safely home. And you, Teyrn Mac Tir, welcome to Castle Cousland.”

“Thank you, Mowrey. I suspect I’m a surprise.”

“I know, Mowrey, I should have sent a messenger ahead,” Fergus apologized, “but the weather was so atrocious I didn’t want to risk anyone getting lost in the storm.”

“Of course, My Lord. We’ll have rooms ready in no time. In the meantime, the solar has a warm fire. Your wife and mother are there, My Lord. The Teyrn is in his studio.”

“Thank you, Mowrey.” Fergus grinned at Loghain, “I think I better say hello to Oriana.”

Loghain chuckled. “Greeting your wife first is always the best course of action, as I recall. I’ll go see your father, if you don’t mind.”

“No, of course not, but better bring him into the solar or mother will be after the two of you.”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Bryce looked up at the knock on the door. Denis de Rievaulx sat in a chair across the desk from him. A map of Orlais south and east of Lydes lay between them. Denis held a list of all the known mines and ore deposits on his father’s lands. Small black chips marked the location of old mines. White chips marked locations of other known ore deposits.

“I asked we not be disturbed,” Bryce grumbled.

“It’s probably time we took a break, Bryce.” The young Orlesian and Bryce had deemed titles unnecessary. “We should ask the others to join us and mark the map.” He got up to open the door.

Bryce smiled. Denis had become much less formal since his arrival. They had established an easy relationship.

Denis stepped back in surprise at the sight of a black haired chevalier in full armor standing in the doorway. “Bonjour, Chevalier-“

“-I’m not a damn chevalier! A Fereldan would know that.” Loghain strode into the room brushing Denis aside. “Bryce who is this?” Although the brown haired, young man wore clothing no more elegant or elaborate than any Fereldan noble, the accent was clearly Orlesian.

Bryce hid a grin behind a hand raised to rub his nose. “Loghain. Good to see you too.”

“I’d offer a better greeting, if the first person I met wasn’t Orlesian,” he grumbled. “Good to be here, Bryce. Now who is he?” Loghain nodded his head toward Denis.

“We didn’t expect you today. Has everyone arrived from Denerim?”

“No. I came from Ostagar with Fergus.”

“Ah. Well, that’s a relief. Glad Fergus is back and had company on the ride.” He stood grinning at Loghain’s annoyed glare. “You should meet Lord Denis de Rievaulx. He’s working with us on the mining adventure.”

Denis bowed. “Teyrn Mac Tir, it’s an honor to meet you.”

“Is that so?” Loghain spoke quietly, but his raised eyebrow indicated he did not believe Denis’ words.

“It is, Your Grace. You defeated us honorably. More honorably than we probably deserved, if the stories my father tells of Florian and Meghren are true.” His lips quirked up. “And there’s a certain…ummm…panâche…that I admire in wearing your defeated enemy‘s plate.” He looked to Bryce for the translation.

Bryce grinned. “It means swagger, style, flair.”

“I know what it means,” Loghain muttered.

“It fits, Loghain. You wearing that plate has always had an air of defiance and pride.”

Denis watched the interaction between the two men. _These are old friends_. _Perhaps it’s good the Teyrn arrived early. It will give me a chance to…what make him hate me less? I want a life with Lady Cousland. I can hardly have that if they hate me._ He chuckled to himself. _That’s assuming I can win Lady Cousland’s approval. Bryce has made it quite clear the decision will be hers._

“So, you’re here to court Lady Melysande?”

Both Denis and Bryce looked at Loghain, surprised.

“Cailan hasn’t made his desire for Orlesian matches a secret,” Loghain said.

Denis straightened his shoulders and made eye contact with Loghain. “I am here, Your Grace, as the representative of my Empress, to work on the mining contract with Teyrn Cousland and our experts. My father’s lands have promising ore and gem deposits. Since the contract focuses on our lands, I was chosen as emissary.” The Teyrn's right eyebrow rose. Bryce did not speak. “And, yes, I look forward to meeting Lady Cousland. I will try to gain her friendship and approval, but what happens after that…well, we’ll see I suppose. I understand she’s a young woman with a mind of her own.” Denis smiled. “Which is not surprising, having met her mother.”

Loghain frowned, but did not respond. _Clever reply. This boy needs watching, I think._

“Bryce, I’ll leave you.” Denis continued.   “I’m sure you and the Teyrn have much to discuss.”

“Denis, why don’t you get Etienne and Cadel. You can review the map with them here. Loghain and I will go greet Fergus.”

“As you wish, Bryce. It’s been an honor, Teyrn Mac Tir.” Denis bowed. “I look forward to joining you both for dinner and meeting Lord Fergus.” He went off to find the others.

“Nicely done, Bryce. No wonder you’re Cailan’s Foreign Minister.” Loghain’s voice had an edge.

“I think Denis stood up for himself, don’t you?” Bryce walked out of the office and turned away from the solar. “Loghain, walk with me.”

“I thought-“

“-I need to speak with you. In private. Let’s get cloaks. We’re going to the garden.”

“I just came in out of the weather, Bryce.”

Bryce shrugged. “Eleanor’s garden has more privacy than anywhere else.”

Bryce’s proposal, once he made his case, shocked Loghain.

“Lys and me? You can’t be serious.”

“I didn’t bring you out here to play a joke Loghain.”

“On paper it does make sense. In reality, no. I couldn’t do that to her or me. I think of her as a niece. It would be beyond awkward.”

“You are one option. The only other option – good option – is Denis de Rievaulx.”

“Because there are no young men in Nevarra or the Marches.”

“Our mistake, perhaps, in not trying to arrange a marriage sooner, but we promised her she could choose.”

“This will be a choice?”

“Yes. I’ve told Cailan that. He was not happy, but he allowed it.”

“And how will he react if she says no? How will the Empress react?”

“We’ll find out if Lys does. She may find she likes him.”

“What do you and Eleanor think of him?”

“I like him. Eleanor, against her better judgment, does as well, although she does not favor an Orlesian marriage. I think they can be partners. It may not be a love match, but how many are? Fergus and I have been lucky. Lys may not find love, at least at first.”

“Was the match with me your way of defusing my opposition?”

“No. It was Eleanor’s idea. A way to give Lys another option.”

“I see. The timing is odd though.”

“Odd?”

“Anora proposed a marriage to me. One I might consider, truth be told.”

“Who?”

“Delilah Howe. Anora’s worried about Gwaren’s succession as well.   She wants to assure its stability and secure a good match for Delilah. She likes the girl, but wants to get her away from her father. She thinks she would make a good Teyrna.”

“Delilah Howe? Not a bad idea. Might even make Howe happy. Thom with Amaranthine. Delilah a Teyrna. His grandchild Teyrn of Gwaren. You can join the Summerday weddings here.”

“You wouldn’t oppose the marriage?”

“No.” Bryce smiled, “Well, as long as you support the Orlesian weddings.”

“Negotiating again.   You just can’t resist and give a simple yes or no. Wait, weddings? So it’s true about Philippa Broughten.”

“Yes. She’ll be in Verchiel, not far from Lys in Lydes.”

“That’s convenient. You don’t find all this suspicious, Bryce?”

“I do, but I can’t find any holes yet. I begin to suspect Empress Celene used some fortunate events, like Pippa and Guy meeting, to her advantage. I think she intended to marry Lys to an Orlesian noble and, again, got lucky with Denis. I’ve checked. He’s who he says he is and he’s done everything he claims. I haven’t met his father yet, but he plans to visit our mining operations in the spring. Don’t worry, I’ll keep looking. As will Fergus and Eleanor, I’m sure.”

“This is all Cailan’s idea?”

“Lys marrying Denis came from Cailan and Empress Celene. His way of diverting her attention from Anora I think.”

Loghain muttered something under his breath and then said, “I knew she wanted Anora set aside.”

“To Cailan’s credit, he refused. He realized he had to agree to some other concession.”

“So he offered your daughter?”

“He agreed to speak to me if the Empress offered an appropriate candidate.”

Loghain nodded, “I wonder what he would have done if Anora failed to quicken?”

“Why ask that, Loghain? You have a beautiful granddaughter. “

“You’re right, Bryce. I’m an ass. I have my family and you will lose your daughter.” Loghain sighed. “You don’t think Guy planned to woo Pippa?”

“Pippa met Guy on her own. Guy could not have known Philippa would be in Highever at the same time he visited last year. The match is a good one. His father is a Comte. Guy will inherit.”

Loghain sighed. “Lys would make a fantastic Teyrna.”

“Do you want to change your mind?”

“No. It feels completely wrong.”

“Then, please keep your knowledge of Denis quiet. I’d prefer Lys to get to know him without the pressure of a betrothal hanging over her.”

Loghain stared out towards the grey sea churning in the distance under equally grey clouds. “I’ll keep quiet, but I don’t like it. She won’t like it. You should tell her. He doesn’t have to know she knows.”

“I want her to meet him with an open mind. Telling her he’s come to court her will bias her opinion.” Bryce clapped him on the shoulder. “Will you consider Anora’s proposal?”

“Changing the subject?” Loghain shook his head. “I will. She thinks Delilah would thrive away from her father. She seems different, livelier, when she’s at the palace. I promised Anora I would get to know her better while here. We’ll all be pairing off it seems. Well, all except Howe. He didn’t’ bring any of his mistresses did he?”

“Maker no. Unless he has someone in the city.”

“Too bad. It would keep him away from our company.” Loghain shivered. “Now can we go in and see you wife and family? Sitting, I hope, by a fire! Preferably with a glass of that brandy the Falanni’s send. I want to understand this mining deal better. It sounds suspicious to me.”

Bryce laughed. “Of course it does. It’s with Orlesians, but it’s no different than our contract with the Nevarrans. It’s our opportunity to watch them while they watch us. I’ll use our contacts with House Haris. We’ll all benefit. What is it you say? Keep your enemies closer?”

“Quoting my own inanities back at me. Unfair, Cousland.”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The two men entered the solar where Eleanor sat alone weaving a narrow decorative band on a small tablet loom.

“I wondered where you gone.” She rose and took his hands. “Loghain it’s so good to have you here again. I’m glad you came early with Fergus. We’ll have you all to ourselves for a visit.” She leaned up and kissed him on either cheek.

“It’s good to be here, Eleanor.”  

She looked between the two men. Letting go of his hands, she crossed the room and shut the door. “She put her arm through Bryce’s leading him to the settle by the fire. Loghain sat in the large chair opposite.

“Now do you want to explain why you’re both frozen?”

Bryce chuckled. “We needed a spot for a private conversation-“

“-and the only spot in all of Highever your husband could find was your garden.” Loghain grumbled.

Eleanor laughed shaking her head. “That’s where we always went to get away from the children.” She looked from one to the other, “but why?”

“To ask me if I wanted to marry your daughter,” he held up his hand, “which I understand was _your_ idea.”

“Yes. You need an heir.” Eleanor replied

“You may be pleased to know that my daughter realizes that as well.”

“And she suggested?”

“Delilah Howe.”

“A good suggestion. Have you made the arrangements?” Eleanor asked.

Loghain laughed. “Ready to hold the betrothal dinner for us, Ellie? Anora believes I should do so while I am here. Woo the maiden, ask the father, and then get his liege lord and our king to agree.”

“Maker. If Anora is ready to send both Pippa and Delilah away, she must not know about Denis and Lys.”

“Apparently not. If she does, she hasn’t told me. Howe does…well not Denis, but the proposed Orlesian match. That’s where I learned of it. Cailan, in his great wisdom, suggested an Orlesian match for Delilah. Howe heard rumors about Philippa Broughten and assumed that Cailan would propose an Orlesian match for Lys as well.” Loghain took a deep breath. “I’ll concede, the Orlesian boy’s possibly a better option than the Howe boy. I don’t care how long he’s spent with Bryland, he’s a bad piece of work.”

“That’s quite an admission.” Eleanor stared into the fire, before resuming. “Denis seems a good man. If he’s acting, he’s magnificent. I have no bad feelings about him. I’ve tried, believe me.” Eleanor smiled ruefully. “We’ll see what Fergus says. And perhaps you could set aside your-“

“-prejudice.”

“Not the word I was looking for, but yes. Go with Fergus. Hunt with them, go to the Smugglers Nook for ale. I will feel better if all of you vet him before Lys arrives.”

“I would too,” Bryce added. “I’m afraid I’ve become biased. I can’t think of anyone better than you to ferret out an Orlesian villain.”

“Sweet Andraste, you ask too much. Maric, wherever he is, must be rolling on the floor in laughter,” Loghain groused. “I’ll try, although I can only promise not to hurt him.”

“Well, that’s a start, at least. No sparring with him either,” Bryce ordered.

**29 Dragon   Harvestmere ===   Castle Cousland**

The Royal entourage arrived in Highever a week after Loghain and Fergus. King Cailan, Queen Anora, Princess Elin, and their retinue settled into a suite of rooms in the guest quarters. Erlina, Elin’s nurse Elspeth and Cailan’s manservant, Cadwgan, quickly had the royal family comfortable in their new quarters. Delilah had rooms adjacent to Queen Anora and separate from her father’s suite on the other side of the guest wing. Lys moved into her own rooms in the family wing. Philippa stayed with her family at the Keep. The Arl and Arlessa also hosted Lord de Montafilan, who had recently arrived from Redcliffe and Rainesfere.

Teyrna Eleanor, with the Queen’s agreement, planned a relaxed celebration. There would be ceremonial visits to the Guildhall with the Teyrna and Arlessa and a formal dinner hosted by the Arl and Arlessa at the City Hall, but no other formal occasions or ceremonies. Other than Arl Howe, no other nobles would join the royal family, Teryn Loghain and the Couslands at the castle. The Highever visit would provide Cailan and Anora a respite from the ceremonial pressures of Denerim.

The day after their arrival, Lys and Kai donned their worn, practice leathers and set out for the practice yards. Both were stiff from two weeks of travel on horseback. Arriving at the yards, she found Fergus, Teyrn Loghain, and a third man, watching two other men she did know spar.

“Those must be the Orlesian nobles Mum mentioned.”

“Is one of them the noble Pippa favors?” Kai asked.

“I don’t think so. He’s staying at the Keep. You know we don’t discuss that very often. You’ve probably heard more about him from Myfanwy, than I know. We’ve agreed to disagree on the wisdom of an Orlesian match. Apparently, the Orlesian staying with us has a retinue, including two other knights. That must be him and his companions.”

“If this Lord Guy makes Pippa happy…”

“How can she know? She’s never visited Verchiel or met his family. I realize she’s fortunate to have met the man, but…well it’s Orlais. I can’t help but wonder at this Guy de Montafilan’s motives.”

“Doesn’t your father know him?”

Lys sighed. “Yes. And the king favors the match. Even Queen Anora is not completely against it, if it’s what Pippa wants. If we are to have peace, we will need to have marriages between Fereldans and Orlesians. I know all the arguments. I just…worry.”

Kai placed a hand on her arm. “Pippa knows her own mind, Lys. Myfanwy says she hasn’t been this happy in years.”

“I wonder if she will take Myfa?” Lys and Kai exchanged a look.

“As a member of a household….” Kai began.

“You were a member of a household. It didn’t stop those monsters in Val Chevin. I couldn’t even stop them, it took Cousin Samuel and the Wrath troops before they left you alone. And they weren’t chevaliers, only town guard officers. Even Cousin Sam couldn’t have stopped chevaliers.”

Kai nodded. “Myfa won’t let her go alone, though.”

“She might have to. Her new family won’t accept Myfa as her companion, only as a servant.”

“Enough speculation.” Kai grinned. “Let’s fight instead. We’re here and I can put you on your arse any time.”

Lys went into the armory to gather their practice weapons. Kai waited outside pulling her hair back. Sherpa had gone over to greet her brothers, as they ambled behind Fergus and Loghain. The trio of men had left the fence and headed toward the stables.

“Elf! Bring me one of those water skins.”

Kai did not look up.

“Elf! I gave you an order.”

Kai looked towards the practice yard and saw one of the Orlesians looking at her.

“Yes, you! Bring me a water skin. Move!”

Kai put her hands on her hips, blue eyes narrowed. “What I do would be up to my mistress, not you.” She turned on her heel to follow Lys into the armory.

The Orlesian followed, grabbed her arm and jerked her around. “I said I need a water skin. Get it.” He stiffened as he felt a blade at his throat.

“Let her go. Now!”

“Get away from me. Another guard? Women and elves in the guard. Ridiculous Fereldan-”

“-I’m not a guard. I’m your worst nightmare, Orlesian,” Lys hissed purposely nicking his neck with her blade.

“Ranald! What’s happening?”

Lys saw the other Orlesian, not in armor, approach with Loghain and Fergus not far behind.

“This elf refuses to obey my orders, _Seigneur_. When I pressed her to do so, this woman attacked me.”

The new arrival turned to the girl in the worn leathers. “Explain yourself, please.”

“Explain _myself_?” She glared at the Orlesian. “Call off your knight, _Orlesian_ , or my hound will have you both on the ground.”

The two men heard a growl.

“Oh look,” Kai said, “three mabari, My Lady. Sherpa and her brothers.”

“Lys, what are you doing?” Fergus said.

Denis slowly turned his head to look at Fergus without alarming the mabari.

“Teaching these fools how to behave in Highever.” Lys said through clenched teeth. “Perhaps you could help, instead of assuming I’m the problem.”

Loghain stood behind Fergus laughing.

“You’re not helping, Loghain.” Fergus said. “Ranald, I suggest you refrain from pissing off my sister.”

Denis’ head snapped back to where Lys stood, her blade still at Ranald’s throat. Ranald did not seem to understand Fergus’ comment.

“She’s not the most patient person I know,” Fergus continued. “Lys maybe you should remove your blade so we can resolve this without bloodshed. What did Ranald do?”

Lys lowered her blade, but did not sheath it. The three mabari calmed.

“He attacked Kai.”

“Attacked! She’s an elf. She’s refused to obey.” Ranald shouted. “I asked the elf to get me water. She refused and talked back. Then this-”

“-she has a name and a station, Orlesian.” Lys said. “What’s more, she has no obligation to obey _you.”_

Ranald tuned toward Lys and his hand started to rise, but Denis caught it before he could hit her. Both Lys and Kai raised their blades again.

“You fool. You would hit the lady? Bad enough you insult her servant, Ranald. We are guests here.” Denis pushed his knight against the rail surrounding the practice yard. “Control yourself.” Denis released him and stepped back. “Maker, Fergus. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think I’m the one owed an apology, Denis.”

“You are, but clearly not the only one.” Denis turned to Lys and Kai, who had again lowered, but not sheathed their blades. “My Lady and…I’m sorry I don’t know your name. I do apologize for Ranald’s behavior. He’s in my service. I am responsible for his misdeeds.”

Lys held his gaze before replying. “See it doesn’t happen again…to anyone. If…Ranald is it?...if Ranald wants to spar, I suggest he use the guards sparring yards. He’s not welcome here.”

“What. The common yards! I’m a _chevalier_ …”

In a single step, Lys’ blade was at his throat again. Kai stood behind her blades ready. “All the more reason to ban you from the castle’s yards _Sieur_ Ranald. As your lord noted, _you_ are the guest here. Now get out.”

Ranald turned to his lord. “ _Seigneur_ this-“

Denis glared. “-don’t say it Ranald. Clearly you don’t yet understand who the lady is.”

The chevalier looked confused.

“You insult the Lady Melysande Cousland and her companion. The Teyrn’s daughter who serves the Queen of Ferelden.”   Denis watched the realization finally dawn on his knight. “I see you understand now. Pack your things. You’ll return on the _Dame de Lydes_ when she sails tomorrow. You’ve insulted our host enough for one visit.”

Ranald gave a quick glance at Lys and Kai before he left.

Denis stepped back to address both the women and Fergus and Loghain. “I’m sorry. I thought he would moderate his views, but apparently not.” He smiled ruefully. “This is not how I hoped we would meet, Lady Cousland. I’m Denis de Rievaulx. I hope my actions will make some reparation for my knight’s behavior. He’ll not insult you or your companion again. I’ll leave you now and not spoil the rest of your morning.” He bowed to Lys and Kai, nodded to Fergus and Loghain as he left.

“Well, that woke us up.” Kai rubbed her arm where Ranald had grabbed her.

“Are you alright? Should we go see Nyla?”

“No, it might bruise, but nothing more. I can still put you on your arse.”

“So, no permanent damage, I see,” Fergus noted.

Kai grinned. “No, My Lord.”

“Lys?”

“I’m fine, Fergus, just not happy to see those Orlesians here. Let’s go Kai. I need to beat on something and you’re available.”

“I beat back, remember.”

Lys grinned at her friend. “I know. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Loghain and Fergus watched the women go toward the yards.

“That wasn’t the most auspicious beginning.” Fergus shook his head. “I like the man, but I’m not sure I like the idea of Lys marrying him and going to Orlais. I fear Lord de Rievaulx is an unusual Orlesian.”

“I agree, Fergus. Surprised as I am to say it, the boy acquitted himself well. He took responsibility, sent his man home and apologized nicely and then retreated. Once Lys thinks about it I believe she’ll agree.”

Fergus raised an eyebrow. “Admiring an Orlesian?”

“Grudgingly. Having seen that, however, I’m not sure I want Lys to be alone in his country.”

Fergus grimaced. “That is the question isn’t it. What will he be like at his home?” He sighed. “Well, I better warn Mum and Da that they’ve met and how. Maker, I hate this, but it’s better she meet him and form an opinion before the betrothal discussions.”

“I’ll remain here,” Loghain replied walking toward the practice yard to watch the sparring.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Fergus found his father and Denis already discussing the meeting.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace, I thought Ranald understood how to behave here. What he did was inexcusable.”

“I appreciate your coming to me directly, Denis. It’s best he leave. You did well. We’ll proceed with the formal introductions tonight as planned.” He smiled, thinking of his daughter. “Lys knows how to conduct herself.”

“As long as no weapons are in reach.” Fergus smirked as he joined the two men. ”You know all her gowns have slits so she can reach the hidden daggers.”

Denis’ eyes grew wide. “Hidden daggers?”

“Of course, my sister never goes unarmed. Nor does her companion.”

Denis looked from Teyrn Bryce to Fergus. “You know I’m never sure when you joke.”

Bryce grinned. “Well, she does usually carry at least one dagger or throwing knife. I’m not sure Queen Anora allows that, though. So perhaps she will be unarmed tonight.”

Denis remained serious. “Well, at least it’s only a small knife. She doesn’t know poisons, does she?”

“My wife is Antivan, Denis. Lys has been an herbalist since she was a child. Of course, she knows poisons. It wouldn’t surprise me if she’s figured a way to weave poison into cloth. Beware if she gifts you with a scarf for Satinalia.”

“I see. Beware of textiles,” he grinned, understanding the joke. “Well, should she accept me, I will have a multi-talented wife who will play The Game with great skill.”

Fergus raised his eyebrows and Bryce just shook his head.

“Come on,” Fergus placed a hand on Denis’ back, “let’s go watch her spar. I think she’s taking on Loghain when she and Kai finish.”

“Seriously? Loghain Mac Tir?”

“She’s good, Denis. With blades and bow. Kai is the archer though. The two of them together are quite formidable. Your Ranald was outclassed from the moment he spoke.”

“This Kai, what is her position? Teyrn Loghain seemed to know her, too.”

“Officially, she’s Lys lady’s maid and an excellent one my wife tells me. Amazing hair stylist, Oriana says. Her specialty is braiding.”

Denis gave Fergus a disbelieving look.

“Truly. She and Lys may be battle maidens, but they love fine clothes too. Unofficially, she’s her companion. She rides, fights and holds her own with my sister in conversation, no mean feat. Odd as it may seem to you, they’re good friends.” Fergus stopped. “Will that be a problem?”

“Not in my personal household, but elves are not so well treated in Orlais. It may be difficult for…umm Kai? We will have to discuss it.”

Fergus resumed walking. “If you want my sister to accept you, you will have to work something out.”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Upon arriving the day before, Lys discovered several new gowns hanging in her wardrobe.   Obviously, her parents wanted her to look her best this Satinalia. The night of the Royal party’s arrival there had been no formal meal. A few of the travelers had eaten with Loghain and the Couslands in the small dining hall. The royal family had eaten in their rooms. Tonight, her mother planned a formal meal in the Great Hall.

Lys looked at the new gowns. She chose one and dressed carefully. The long-sleeved Highever green tunic ,woven from a super fine silk and wool thread, skimmed her figure. Over it, the plum silk houppelande represented the latest style with its high waist, gathered skirt and flowing sleeves. Silver bands outlined the waist, neckline, and sleeve edges. Silver threads shot through the plum fabric.

The matching plum headpiece, edged in silver beading, sat back from her brow revealing her hair and forehead. It formed a wide band over her crown and then narrowed on the sides ending above her ears. The headpiece left the back of her head uncovered. A transparent veil fell from the band to the floor, allowing the intricate braiding Kai had created to show through. She wore a plum half mask, which shaded to black around her eyes. Like the gown, it had silver threads scattered across it. The tops of two peacock feathers decorated the left side of the mask. She supposed the mask was worn in honor of their Orlesian guests. She wondered if everyone would wear one, or just her.

Oriana came in to give her a new chain for her laurel pendant. It was heavier, but shorter than her old one, allowing the laurel pendant to lie at the base of her throat. Alistair’s locket hung inside her dress on a separate long, fine chain. She wore several rings, but the simple laurel band remained on her right ring finger. Kai lined her eyes with kohl. Lys added a cream, which brightened her lips. Orlesians wore extravagant make-up, but that was an affectation she did not embrace.

“Do I look presentable, Kai?”

“Perfectly.”

“I wish I felt that way. I don’t know why, but I feel…unsettled.”

“You’ll be fine, Lys. It’s just your family and the king and queen.”

“Arl Howe, too. And that Orlesian, Denis. I suppose I’ll meet him formally tonight.”

Kai chuckled. “Do you have your dagger?”

“No! The new gowns have no slits. I have to fix them all.”

“I’ll get started while you’re at dinner.”

Lys hugged Kai, careful of her gown and makeup. “Thanks. I’ll help tomorrow.”

“Lys, it’s my job you know. Now you should go or your mother will be sending for you.”

Lys wrinkled her nose. “I know. I’m off.”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Lys found the women in the solar.   Queen Anora sat by the fire talking with Teyrna Eleanor, Oriana, and Arlessa Alys as they sipped some fine Markham wine. Delilah played softly on a lute, while Pippa sat quietly beside her on a bench beneath the window. She also wore a mask. Everyone looked up as Lys entered and curtsied to the Queen.

“Lys, you look quite lovely tonight,” Anora said. “I love the fabric with the silver threads.” She looked from Lys to Pippa. “ Your mask looks quite striking. I rather like them both. Perhaps, I’ll start wearing one in Denerim.” Anora said.

“That will please your father, Your Majesty. Every noble woman would have one in a week.” Lys spoke over her shoulder as she walked to join Pippa and Delilah.

Teyrna Eleanor bowed her head, covering her smile with her hand.

“You’re impertinent Lady Cousland, but you have a point.” Anora said, her mouth quirking up slightly.

“I think I shall ask the men to join us before we go in for dinner,” Eleanor suggested.

Anora nodded agreement. “Yes, I would like to meet your Orlesian visitor before go in.”

Eleanor nodded to a servant, who left to convey her wishes to the Teyrn.

The women, except Anora, stood as King Cailan entered with the other men. Cailan walked over to Anora, kissed her brow and stood, leaning on the mantle. Bryce smiled at Eleanor, but joined Loghain and Arl Philip in chairs set near the wall opposite the fireplace. Fergus followed by two young men, also wearing half masks, followed Cailan towards the fireplace. The three bowed to Queen Anora. Fergus introduced the two Orlesians and then walked over to Lys and Pippa.

Pippa stood and held out her hand for the man in the yellow mask to kiss. Blushing, she turned to Lys. “Lady Melysande, this is Seigneur Guy de Montafilan. Seigneur Guy, my good friend, Lady Melysande Cousland.”

“Lord de Montafilan, an honor to meet you.” Lys curtsied but did not extend her hand. _So this is Pippa’s love._ _From the way she’s blushing, I guess the betrothal will be announced soon and with the King and Queen’s approval_. Lys turned to her brother and the young man with him, as Guy sat down with Pippa on the bench.

“Lys, I want to introduce to you, more formally, to Lord Denis de Rievaulx,” Fergus said. “Denis, this is my sister, Lady Melysande.”

“It’s good to meet you again Lord de Rievaulx,” Lys said as she curtsied. “I understand you work with father on the mining contract. Do you know a lot about mining?”

The Orlesian nobleman smiled, “No, My Lady. More about the mines’ locations on my father’s lands, than the process itself. I’m learning from your father, Fergus and the mining experts here in Highever. We visited a tin mine. Fascinating.”  

“You visited Dolcauthi?”

“Yes. I like the use of the water wheel to drain the mine. Situating the smelter nearby makes sense, too. Smelting on site saves the cost of transporting the ore.”

“It’s fortunate, at Dolcauthi, that there are several mines in the area to supply the smelter and that the water flow is so dependable.”

“You know the site?”

“I’ve been there many times. There’s good hunting nearby in the autumn. We have a lodge nearby.”

“You’re quite adventurous.”

“I’m a Cousland, Lord de Rievaulx. We know our lands and our people.”

“I…of course. It’s not-“

“-not what most Orlesian girls would do?”

“In truth, it’s not, but you have not been to Orlais, no?”

“I…have not.” _At least not as Lys Cousland. He doesn’t need to know about Layne Haris._ “To Nevarra, Antiva and Starkhaven, but never Orlais.”

“We should remedy that.”

“Oh yes? So you have a sister?”

“I..do. Younger and married.” Lord de Rievaulx looked puzzled.

“Well, I would hardly come to visit _you_ , would I? But your sister.…”

“Ah, I see, well, we shall have to arrange it. He glanced at Pippa and Guy who were deep in conversation, leaving Delilah to join Oriana and the Queen. “Perhaps you’ll have other reasons to visit one day.”

“I thought Lord de Montafilan’s lived in Verchiel. That’s some distance from Val Royeaux.” She tilted her head. “You live in Val Royeaux, no? That’s where Papa met you?”

“No, yes…my father’s lands are mostly east and south of Lydes.  Our seat is in the city. I divide my time between Lydes and my manor outside Val Royeaux.” He shrugged. “There’s a ferry between the two cities, so the trip is not long. When I’m at Court I often stay at the family estate in town. It’s normal for the eldest son to spend time at Court.”

“I would think you would want to get to know your people and the lands that will be yours.”

“I spent my youth learning those things. I keep up with our lands when I go home to Lydes. I assure you my father sees that I meet with our seneschal and his other officials. This contract represents work and income for our people once we establish the new ones and reopen the old. Maker, are we really discussing mining?”

“What would you have us discuss, My Lord? The latest gossip from Val Royeaux? Or would you prefer Denerim?” She pursed her lips, “I know, I can tell you about my cousin Habren and her new husband. There’s all sorts of rumors.”

Denis lips widened slowly into a smile. “I apologize, My Lady. We can discuss mining all evening. Or the wool trade? We have fine sheep in the foothills south of Lydes. Your mother has been instructing me. Fergus tells me you’re an expert sheep herder.”

Lys tried to stifle a grin. “I’ve delivered my share of lambs.”

Denis offered his arm as a servant announced dinner. As Lys took it he leaned down and whispered, “So have I.”

Lys looked up at him in surprise.    

“Really,” he said, interpreting her look as disbelief. “Father believed I should learn how our people live. He is perhaps, unusual among Orlesian nobility.   I spent a very wet, cold early spring with shepherds one year. I was expected to watch the flock, help birth the lambs and try shearing. Wasn’t so good at shearing.” He grinned. “It was amazing.”

“I don’t know whether to believe you or not.”

He placed his right hand on his heart. “Truth. I promise you.”

They seated themselves at the long head table on the dais. The nobles’ retainers filled the two tables below them set at right angles to the dais. Taking precedence, King Cailan and Queen Anora sat in the center seats of honor at the high table. Teyrn Bryce sat to Anora’s right and Teyrna Eleanor to King Cailan’s left. Teyrn Loghain sat to Eleanor’s right followed by Lys, Denis, Pippa and Lord Montafilan. Arlessa Alys sat to Bryce’s left followed by Arl Howe, Oriana, Arl Philip, Lady Delilah and Fergus. Lys surprised herself by keeping up a lively conversation with Denis and Loghain during the meal.

“I almost believe you. Tell me, what’s the worst problem that can occur at a birthing?”

“The worst would be a still birth, the next…well either the cord wrapped around the neck or a breech presentation…or both. I watched Franck, the shepherd, turn a lamb and loosen the cord enough to birth it alive. I couldn’t do that, of course. I helped with the straightforward births.”

Lys frowned. “Well, you either read about it or did participate.” She sipped her wine and then took a bite of the blancmanger made from chicken, almonds and rice spiced with sugar, ginger, pepper and salt. A large roast of venison would follow, along with eels in broth, grilled fish and mashed root vegetables and apples. She turned to Teyrn Loghain sitting to her left. “Lord de Rievaulx tells me he’s birthed sheep, Teyrn Loghain. Do you find that odd?”

Loghain leaned forward to look across Lys to the young Orlesian. “I find it extremely odd for an Orlesian Chevalier, but many things about Lord de Rievaulx are odd.”

Denis chuckled, while Lys looked at Loghain in surprise.

“For example, Lady Cousland, Lord Denis is a chevalier who does not wear his armor since it might offend his hosts. He is an Orlesian nobleman who I have stealthily observed being pleasant to common folk. He appears to enjoy learning about mining, not just letting his people do the work for him. He-

“-stealthily? So you tracked him? You must have worn your leathers,” Lys said.

“I did not track him, I simply watched him in the market where I also happened to be shopping.”

“Did you get Anora the gift I suggested,” Lys whispered.

“I did, but that’s not what we were discussing,” Loghain whispered back.

“I noticed, Your Grace, that Lady Melysande is quite adept at shifting topics.” Denis said.

“She’s always been a shifty person, I’m afraid.”

“Teyrn Loghain!”

Denis and Loghain both chuckled. Eleanor watched the three of them chatting.

“That surprises me, Teyrna Eleanor.” Cailan said.

“Which? That Loghain seems to get along with our Orlesian guest or the Lys does.”

Cailan smiled. “Both, to be honest, although Loghain has been…tolerant of Lord Denis, Fergus tells me. He recounted a pleasant evening at the Smuggler’s Nook. He and Loghain discussed battle strategy, of all things, the terrain of the Frostbacks on either side of the border and what good relations his family has with the Dwarves of Orzammar. I’d like to ask him about the dwarves, myself. I’d love to visit King Endrin and see his city, but I digress. Loghain seems to tolerate him. I hope that Lys will as well.”

Eleanor smiled. “He does have a way of disarming us.”

“You sound like you distrust him.”

“Disbelieve would better describe it, Your Majesty. He’s so different from any other Orlesian I’ve met and I’ve met many in Nevarra.”

“Ah, yes of course, Lys will have as well I suppose.”

“Yes, Orlesians, Nevarrans, Antivans and every sort of Marcher.”

“I’m surprised her heart hasn’t been taken, then.”

Eleanor looked at Cailan unsmiling for a moment. “She thought it was taken, Your Majesty. It’s taken time to realize she needed to move on.”

Cailan looked confused. “To…not Alistair still?” He whispered.

“She understands that’s no longer possible, but she thinks Denis is just a visitor. To her, it’s a flirtation.   Loghain may be aware of yo…our plans for them, but, as you know, she is not. Her attitude may change once she realizes his intentions.”

“Loghain knows?”

“He heard it from Arl Howe or deduced it from something Howe told him. He told Fergus.”

“So everyone else knows?”

“I don’t know about Delilah or Pippa. Does Anora?’

“Not yet. I wanted her to accept Philippa’s betrothal, before I added Lys, particularly since Bryce put conditions on the arrangement. Pippa might know, if Guy told her. Delilah…if Loghain heard from Howe, perhaps she knows too. Maker, nothing stays a secret.”

“Very little, Your Majesty. The only secrets are the ones you tell to no one but yourself.”

“I’m learning that. I never told Howe, by the way, but I did suggest an Orlesian match for Delilah. He must had deduced the rest from that.” Cailan shook his head. “At least Bryce didn’t refuse as Howe did although his condition is unusual.”

“You mean that Lys must agree?”

Cailan nodded. “Bryce made it clear the decision would be Lys’ and I allowed it.   You must admit it looks promising.” He looked again at Lys conversing with the Orlesian nobleman.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The high table guests retired to the Grand Salon when the meal finished. They left most of the minstrels playing for the remaining guests and retainers in the Hall.

“We could ask Master Bernhard to bring two or three of his players here for ballad singing and dancing,” Lys suggested to her mother before they got to the Grand Salon. “Anora loves to dance, but doesn’t very often at large gatherings.”

Eleanor smiled at her daughter. “I think you’ll find I’m way ahead of you for once.”

Lys grinned and hugged her surprised mother. “Good. I’m in a dancing mood tonight.”

A fire burned in the large room, offering warmth to the chairs, settle and benches surrounding it. Windows extended across the opposite wall covered by heavy drapes to keep out the winter chill. A long table stood in front of the drapery where servants offered a spiced wine called hypocras, red wine, brandy, and a warm spiced concoction of wine and spirits. A variety of sweet custards, sugared nuts, dried fruits and warm tarts completed the dessert offerings. The steaming apple, pear and plum tarts, spiced with cinnamon, sugar, cloves and ginger made the air fragrant.

As Lys and Eleanor entered the Salon five musicians began to play. One minstrel played a triangular Fereldan harp, another playing a lute sang a love ballad, while his companions played a flute and fiddles. The harpist’s voice joined the lute player, singing in harmony.

“Lady Melysande will you join us with your vihuela?” Lys and Pippa knew the players, who came from Higheverport.

“Perhaps later, but Pippa and I will sing with you, if you will permit us?”

The two young women, as they had often done in Anora’s rooms at the palace, entranced the company with their singing. As they sang a ballad of Alindra, Lys noticed Guy poking Denis. Denis glanced at her, smiled and shrugged.

When they finished Pippa whispered to Lys, “Guy tells me Denis sings too. Shall we find out?”

Lys grinned. “Why not, he must do something badly.” She waved to Denis to join them.

Denis approached slowly. “My Lady?”

“I understand you sing.”

“I do, but I don’t want to intrude.”

“Please, join us Denis,” Pippa smirked. “Tell us what you want to sing.”

He looked at the players, “Do you know the Adventure of the Black Fox?”

“In Orlesian or Fereldan?”

Denis grinned and looked at Lys eyebrows raised.

“Orlesian, Lord de Rievaulx, but only if we can join you.”

“ _Mais, naturellement. Chantez_!”

Pippa and Lys exchanged looks. Denis smiled at Guy.

The harpist began alone, but Denis soon joined him in a rich baritone. Pippa and Lys added their soprano and alto during the refrain. The tale of the Orlesian bandit entranced the company as the four singers alternated singing the verses and combined in harmony for the refrain. Silence greeted the singers and players when the ballad ended. The musicians looked at their audience in surprise. Then the group applauded.  

Lys turned to Denis, “You sing beautifully, Lord de Rievaulx. Do you play?”

“The lute and a little on the harp.” He grinned. “I also like to drum.”

“Drum?”

“Yes, the Dwarves use drums you know. It’s fun.”

The musicians began a roundel.

“Do you dance as well.”

“ _Certainement. Voulez-vous danser avec moi_?”

“ _Avec vous et les autres_.” Lys motioned to the others who had begun a circle dance. “Let’s join them.”

The older members of the company remained by the fire. Arl Howe sat quietly, observing Lys and Denis and thinking about the unexpected offer Loghain had made to him earlier in the day. _Marry Delilah to Loghain._ He chuckled. _And this develops without Nicephorus’ help. My grandchild the Teyrn of Gwaren. That may be an offer I must accept. Let Cousland waste his daughter on an Orlesian. Better to prove his disloyalty._ He saw Lys laugh at something Denis said. _It looks like she’s attracted to him. Perhaps she’ll accept him, although Bryce, fool that he is, would allow her to say no. A no will anger Cailan. Either way it makes my task easier._ He sipped his brandy.

 _Perhaps I should have Nicephorus wait. Delilah may not find an ill-tempered Loghain as appealing.   If I take Loghain’s offer Delilah will have no such choice, but I can’t risk her complaining about him._ _Less risk, if we start the spells in Vigil’s Keep while he stays with us. Here Nicephorus has no direct access to Loghain’s room. The guard can see his room from their station near the royal family’_ _s door. Yes, we_ _’ll wait. Let Loghain enjoy another week of good health._

The younger members of the company spent the rest of the evening dancing and talking. Delilah found herself chatting with Teyrn Loghain, much to her surprise. She knew the Teyrn could be, if not exactly charming, then personable. Usually, at the palace, she had been an observer to his conversations with Lys and Anora, but tonight she had his full attention. She found she rather liked it. He even danced with her!

That Delilah seemed to enjoy Loghain’s company did not go unnoticed by the Queen _._ She had almost ordered him to partner with Delilah, but he had acquiesced, if only for one dance. _Father said Rendon did not object. They make a handsome pair. Perhaps there will be two betrothals after Satinalia._

“Lys seems to enjoy being paired with Lord Denis tonight,” Teyrn Bryce observed to Eleanor.

“The music may convince her,” Teyrna Eleanor said. “It’s an interest they could share.”

“And yet you seem sad, Eleanor,” Arlessa Alys said. “He would be a good match. It would be lovely to have them in neighboring cities.”

“They barely know each other, Alys,” Eleanor replied. “Lys is not above a flirtation. I suspect that’s all this is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading whether or not you review, fav or follow, I appreciate you. I hope you continue to read and enjoy.  
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eyes. Her astute comments improve every post. Any errors are all mine. Thanks to all who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. I do love reviews and welcome comments, encouragement, suggestions and critiques.  
> Special thanks to all of you who reviewed or commented: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, KatDancer, caraine, Eastern Violet, Nymra and SnowHelm. You make me think and sometimes change my approach. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback.


	59. Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:29 Dragon 25 Harvestmere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world. I sometimes incorporate game dialogue, although not usually in its original context. Either way, that dialogue belongs to Bioware. 
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

"Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…"  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 59: DUTY**

* * *

  **9:29 Dragon  25 Harvestmere  ===  Castle Cousland**

Lys entered the king and queen’s rooms two days after their arrival to find Anora and Cailan drinking tea.  Nurse Elspeth and her daughter, Eadwyna, sat on the floor playing with the almost one-year-old Princess Elin.  The princess had just begun walking on unsteady legs.  As she moved, she developed more speed than her small feet could handle resulting in a tumble.  Showing her mother’s persistence and her father’s easy nature, she would immediately get up, laugh, and set off towards her goal.  Eadwyna encouraged Elin to come to her and then sent her off to her father or mother.  When the princess reached Cailan, he would toss her in the air and then set her on her feet.  Laughing, she would toddle back to Eadwyna for a hug.  Then it was Anora’s turn.  From her mother, Elin received a big hug, a kiss and whispered endearments. 

Anora had just put her down when Lys entered.  Elin squealed and started toward Lys.

“Come on, sweetling,” Lys called, crouching down with her arms out.  She scooped her up just before Elin fell forward and stood holding the princess.  The two twirled across the room to Eadwyna where Lys put the giggling girl down. 

Lys turned and curtsied to Anora and Cailan.  “I apologize, Your Majesties, but I’m afraid Her Royal Highness takes precedence.”

“We applaud your priorities, Lys,” Cailan said, grinning.

Lys searched the room seeing neither Delilah nor Pippa.  “Is no one attending you, today, Your Majesty?”  Lys asked.

“I sent Delilah off with Father.  He wanted to ride along the coast on such a lovely day.  I thought Delilah might enjoy a ride.  I think she’s been hiding from _her_ father by staying in here.”  Anora smiled calmly at the flicker of surprise that crossed Lys’ face.  “Pippa will spend the day with Lord de Montafilan.  They said something about going to the Satinalia Market with you and Lord de Rievaulx.”

“Oh?  I had no such plans.  Lord Denis is pleasant enough, but I don’t seek his company.”  Lys did not notice Cailan wince at her comment.  “I thought to spend the day with you and Delilah.  Would you like to go to the market?  If we dress simply and you cover your hair, we won’t be bothered.  Higheverport folk take no notice of me.  Erlina and Kai can come along.”

“You should venture out, love.  You would enjoy the market.”  Cailan said.  “Perhaps you will meet Lady Philippa and the gentlemen.”

Anora smiled, “Perhaps tomorrow.  You, Delilah, and I can go in the morning.  If we can, I’d also love to see the weavers at work.  I find myself more interested after the formal visit yesterday.”  Anora smirked.  “Your lectures on fabric structure have intrigued me.”

“I can arrange that, Your Majesty.  I’ll send word to the Guild Master telling him that I’ll visit tomorrow.  A visit from me is not unusual, so there will be no ceremony when the three of us arrive, if that pleases you.”

“Wonderful, but I don’t need you today, Lys.  Go with Pippa and enjoy the market.”

Lys did not quite hide her dismay, “Of course, Your Majesty.”

“You don’t want to go?”

She shrugged.  “I’d hoped for a quieter day, Your Majesty.”

“I thought Lord de Rievaulx enjoyed your company,” Cailan said.  “He’ll be disappointed if you don’t go.”

Anora looked at Cailan.  “We came to Highever to escape the pressures and protocols of Denerim, Cailan.  Not just you and I, but Lys, Pippa and Delilah too.  If Lys wants to spend time in her home she should.”  She turned back to Lys.  “Spend time with you mother and Oriana, Lys.  Perhaps we will join you later.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”  As she curtsied before leaving, she noticed the king frowning.  _He wants me to entertain Lord de Rievaulx.  I’d prefer riding with Teyrn Loghain._ She bit her lip as she walked towards the solar.  _Delilah riding with Loghain?_ She decided to put it out of her mind and enjoy the day.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

She met Lord de Rievaulx as she passed through the Great Hall. _Damn.  I hope he doesn’t ask me to join him._   She composed herself to greet him.

“Lord de Rievaulx, I hope you had pleasant dreams.”

“I did, My Lady.  You’re up early.”

“I serve Her Majesty, My Lord, even here.”

“Yet, here you are.  Queen Anora does not need you today?”

“Ah, not at the moment, no.”

“Then you can, I hope, join us.  Will you come with me to the Satinalia Market?  I would appreciate a local guide.  Lady Broughten and Guy asked me to join them and bring you.”

“I hadn’t planned-“

“-planned?  You have the morning free, no?  It’s a glorious day.  Warm for Harvestmere.  The snow is melting or gone.  Please come.  You can show me the sights.”

 “The sights?  You’ve been here over a month, My Lord.”  Lys forced a smile.  ”You must be bored with the sights by now.”

“I meant the market.  Pippa…that is Lady Broughten, tells us it’s quite marvelous.  I would also know more of the cloth business.  I’ve been so busy with your father and Fergus, that I’ve not taken time to learn as much as I would like from your mother.  As I mentioned, we have many sheep, but we sell the fleece, we don’t spin, dye, or manufacture cloth.”

“How can I refuse.”  Lys maintained her smile, but shrugged.  “Pippa’s correct.  The Satinalia Market not only provides much income for our artisans, it’s fun.”

“Wonderful.  Let’s get our boots and cloaks and meet in the bailey.”

“As you wish, My Lord.”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Lord de Rievaulx quickly contained his surprise when he saw Lady Melysande’s maid and her hound accompanying her.  _Naturally, she would bring a companion.  No young noble woman, no matter how adventurous, goes off alone._ As they set off through the castle gates for the Arl’s Keep, he was pleased to find the elf stayed a few steps behind, carrying a basket for her lady’s purchases.  _She does know her place.  I’d wondered when I saw them sparring._

Once at the Keep, Pippa, Guy de Montafilan and Myfanwy joined Lys and Denis to walk toward the center of Higheverport.  They had to tread single file at places where the High Street retained a coating of dirty snow and slush. 

“We need another snowfall to cover this mess,” Pippa said.  “It’s quite lovely when it’s freshly fallen.  Now it’s messy, slippery, and ugly.”

“Perhaps you should take my arm, Lady Philippa.”  Guy had steadied her a few times on the way from the keep, but withdrawn his arm once she was safe.

“I think I’ll need to, Lord Guy.”  She took his arm as they continued toward the city center.

“My Lady, If you-“

“-I thank you, Lord de Rievaulx, but I’m quite steady on my feed.  It’s all the sparring you know.  Improves balance.”

“Ah…the sparring, yes, it does,” he replied.  “So tell me, is Highever an old city?  I seem to recall reading about it as a smugglers’ haven back in the Glory Age.”

“It was.  My family worked hard to turn it to legal trade.  Smuggling still occurs at spots along the coast, but not here.”  Lys glanced at him, surprise showing.  “You’ve read history?”

“I have.  I attend lectures at the University when I can.  History and Mathematics.”

“That’s…unexpected.  Do most nobles in Orlais attend University?”

“Not most, but some.  If you visit Val Royeaux, you could as well.  The University welcomes students from throughout Thedas.”

Behind them, Kai poked Myfa, speaking quietly.  “He’s very good.”

Myfa giggled.  “She’s working hard to keep her distance.  Want to bet whether she’ll take his arm before we get back to the castle?”

“Nope.  She won’t today.  No matter how charming he is, he’s Orlesian.  She’s had flirtations in Cumberland.  She's not flirting with this one.  She’s being the polite hostess and doing her duty.”

“Too bad.  He’s handsome.”  Myfa whispered.

Lys listened as Denis described the University, its library and the lectures he had attended.  His studies had not been limited to Orlesian history, although Lys suspected an Orlesian mindset skewed his perspective.  She tried to think charitable thoughts.  _Not everyone can read the diaries of Arethian Travelers from across Thedas._

“You’re family has been here for many ages, hasn’t it?”  Lord Denis interrupted her musings.

“You mean you didn’t study the Cousland's before you came?”

He stopped.  “You think I just studied this to get your attention?”

“I think it’s a possibility.”

Myfa and Kai walked past them without stopping careful not to chuckle at Lys’ directness.  Sherpa stayed by her mistress.

He frowned.  “I didn’t.  I do attend lectures.  I do like history, but if you prefer we can talk mathematics.”  He rubbed his brow, “Look, I didn’t mean to pressure you into joining us.  I enjoyed your company these past evenings.  I know you and Lady Philippa are friends.  I thought asking you was a good idea.”  His voice trailed off as he finished the sentence.

“It’s not a _bad_ idea, Lord de Rievaulx.  I enjoyed your company too.” 

“But I’m Orlesian.  If the Fereldan in you didn’t dislike me the Nevarran would.”  He smiled ruefully.

Lys looked down the hill toward the harbor.  The Waking Sea had not frozen.  Masts stood above the rooflines.  The sun glinted on patches of snow remaining on the slate tiles.  She shook her head smiling.  “You’re right.  I’m being unduly suspicious of you.  Both Papa and Fergus like you.  Loghain tolerates you, which is quite a compliment.  I’m being rude and churlish.  I’m sorry.”

Sherpa nudged Denis hand.  He looked down.

“May I scratch your head?” he asked, surprising Lys with his courtesy towards her mabari. 

Sherpa nudged again, tail stump wagging.  Denis laughed and scratched between her ears.

“Well, that confirms it.  Even Sherpa likes you.  I guess I have no choice.”

“Good.  So, perhaps we’ll become friends.”

“Perhaps.”  Lys smiled as she started to walk towards the market.  “Let’s not rush things, My Lord.”  She said over her shoulder.

He laughed and followed.  “I like your mistress,” he confided quietly to Sherpa.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The Satinalia Market covered the square in front of the city hall, chantry, and guild buildings. Festive awnings of gold, blue, green, red, or purple covered the tops of the Satinalia booths and extended beyond them to form a protected porch under which shoppers could peruse the booth’s wares.  Some awnings were solid, others striped.  The aroma of grilled fish and sausage combined with that of spiced mulled wine, cool beer, and bread.  Vendors offered almond paste candies shaped into laurel wreaths, griffons, mabari and many other real and fantastical figures.  Every sort of jewelry, decorative carving, delicate glass object and obscure herb and spice were displayed, along with more familiar, mundane items.  One booth sold wreaths to decorate windows and doorways, another sold bundles of herbs to freshen stuffy winter rooms and a third sold beeswax candles to mark the hours or brighten dark corners during long winter nights.  A special booth sold the black and white beans used in the Satinalia cakes.  Another sold Satinalia cakes already baked complete with hidden beans.  The lucky revelers who found the beans became king and queen of the company for the evening. 

While Lys and Denis stopped, their companions had disappeared into the crowds filling the alleys between the rows of booths.  Lys and Denis wandered, stopping to look, but not purchase, knowing they would eventually find their friends. 

“Maker, I have some of these at home,” Denis chuckled, looking at a booth stocked with figurines carved from wood and stone.

“Do you?  A frien…King Cailan has a collection of figurines too.  Fergus never had an interest.  Do you have any Fereldans?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“Fereldans?”  Denis whispered.  “Do they make Fereldan figures?  Who could-“  He laughed as he felt a surprising strong fist punch his arm.  “Ow.  My Lady doth pack a strong punch.”

“Be glad I didn’t reach for my dagger.”

“I did hear that you always carry one.”  He placed both hands over his heart.  “I promise.  I’ll behave.”

“I hope so.  Now, perhaps you should complete your collection with…ummm….Calenhad, the White Knight, in white alabaster?  Or Moira, the Rebel Queen, in red marble.  Yes, I think she would be appropriate.  Or maybe both?”  She proceeded to purchase the two figures.

“You’re actually buying those for me?”  Denis said, wide-eyed and then burst out laughing. 

“Perhaps.  I’ll have to decide.  We do exchange gifts on Satinalia.  We’re not that different from Orlais.”  _One day I should have Fergus return Alistair’s.  They’re in that chest at the Haris compound._ She realized Denis was speaking and looked up.

“I haven’t received figurines for many years.”

“Well, high time you resumed.”

He laughed.  “Not going to dissuade you am I?”

“Nope.” 

“You do realize everyone will laugh.”

She smiled up at him.  “Only if I decide to give them to you.  Maybe they’re for Oren.  Are you afraid of a little teasing?  They could be a memento of your stay here.  We’re related to Calenhad, you know.  At least two Theirin princesses married Cousland heirs.  One Cousland daughter became Queen consort, I think.”

“So you’re in line for the Fereldan throne?”  Denis looked surprised, then thoughtful.  _So that’s why my bride must be a Cousland._

“Distantly.  I honestly never figured it out.  Mum might know.”  Her green eyes held his grey ones.  “We don’t play the Game here, Lord de Rievaulx.  Our king must gain and keep the approval of the Landsmeet.  It’s politics of a different sort.  The preference has been for Theirins.  It’s our form of stability.”

Denis held up his hands in surrender.  “I meant no criticism.”

“I know.  I suppose I get defensive.”  She grinned again.  “I still think they’re the perfect gift.”

He grimaced.  “At least it’s not King Maric or Teyrn Loghain.  They’re the Rebels everyone remembers.”  He watched the smile slowly creep across her lips.  “No.  You wouldn’t give them to me.  Not with Teyrn Mac Tir right here.  And King Cailan!”

“Cailan will think it a glorious gift.  His figurines stand proudly on a shelf in his study.”  She eyed him, then turned and purchased a third figurine he did not recognize and a mabari.  Grinning, she said, “It’s not Loghain or Maric, don’t worry.”  Lys looked around.  “I expected to see Guy and Pippa by now.”

“Changing the subject, My Lady?  Perhaps they went to eat.  Guy enjoys an establishment on the docks.  The Seals’ Roost…do seals roost?”

Lys giggled.  “I don’t think so.  They do have good food there.  Fresh fish in particular, clams and oysters too.  Getting peckish, My Lord?”

“We could go see.”

“No, let’s leave them.  We can get food here.  It’s still lovely out.  Oh look, there’s Myfa and Kai.”

“I see them.”  Denis sounded disappointed.

“Let’s find out if they got everything on their list.  Kai promised the queen’s maid, Erlina, she would pick up a few things.  I want to make sure she got them.  If they did, they can go back to the Keep.  We’ll follow later.”

He looked at her in surprise, smiling.  “I like that plan.”

Lys grinned back.  _He may be Orlesian, but he’s nice.  A simple flirtation may be just what I need.  I’ve been so careful in Denerim, I’d almost forgotten how much fun it could be._

Myfanwy confirmed that Pippa had, indeed, gone to the Seals’ Roost with Guy.  Kai agreed to meet Lys at the Keep and walk home with her.  Lys and Denis decided to eat their way through the food stands.  Some sausage, grilled fish on a stick, mulled, spiced wine, and sweet biscuits soon warmed them and sated their hunger. 

Lys took a cloth satchel from a pocket on the inside of her cloak.  The package with the figurines went into it.  Guy offered to carry it, but she demurred.

“You’ll peek at that third figurine.”  She purchased almond paste candies, sweet rolls, beeswax candles, some simple silver jewelry and more candies and biscuits. 

 “What’s that, your private supply?”  Denis teased.

“Yes.  I get very hungry at night and Nan hates it when we have guests and I raid the kitchens.”

“That’s a lot of food.”

“Well, there are three of us.”

Denis stopped.  “Three?”

Lys grinned.  “Me, Sherpa and Kai.”

“You’re teasing again.”

“I am.  The sweets are for the king and queen.  Cailan has a sweet tooth.  Anora won’t admit it, but she does too.  They always enjoy it when I bring them Highever goodies.  The other things are small Satinalia gifts.”

“You know them well to call them by name?  And Teyrn Loghain as well.”

“Caught me.”  Lys bit her lip.  “I’ve known King Cailan and Queen Anora since I was small and we all used first names most of the time.  I use their titles now, but sometimes I slip.  I never addressed King Maric or Teyrn Loghain without their titles, but I do drop the title at times when I speak of them.  What do you call the Empress?  She’s a cousin, yes?”

“Your Radiance.”

“Ah, not a close cousin then.”

“Not particularly, but I can’t imagine anyone calling Her Radiance by her name, ever.”

“Our king and queen are not so remote, as you have seen.”  She walked quietly past several booths.  “Do you still want to visit the Guild Hall and weavers?”

“I do.  Can we go now?”

“Let me arrange a visit in a few days.  If we go now it will disturb their day and not be very satisfactory – that is if you’re truly interested.  I can also arrange for you to talk to one of the Haris factors about wool and cloth trading.  We should spend half a day if you want to learn about it.” 

“I do, Ly…Lady Cousland.”

Lys raised her eyebrows.  “I’ll arrange it, My Lord de Rievaulx.  Perhaps, if you find the advice useful, a small trading compound can be set up in Lydes similar to the one House Haris has Val Chevin.”

“For the wool trade?”

“Yes.  Mining too, potentially.  House Haris may be Nevarran, but we…it does trade with Orlais.”

“Lys!”  Pippa called out from the end of the row of booths.

“We wondered where you went, Pippa.”

“Oh, Guy loves oysters so we went to the Roost.  Isn’t the Market wonderful this year.  It will be so much fun to explore the markets in Verchiel and Lydes together when we visit each other.”

Lys looked at her completely puzzled.  “Visit each other?”  She saw Guy nudge Pippa, while Denis just looked…not surprised, but dismayed. 

_Sweet Andraste, is he courting me?  Is this all planned?  Surely, Papa wouldn’t betroth me without my consent?_

Denis saw her hands clench, but Lys kept all expression from her face.

“When you visit me,” Pippa said, flushing as she realized her error.

“Getting ahead of yourself, Pippa?”  Lys laughed to cover her concern.  “You’re the one with marriage plans, not me.  I should get back.  Are you coming?”

“No, I have more shopping.  You go on.”

Denis began to walk with Lys. 

“You can stay with Lord de Montafilan and Lady Philippa, My Lord.  I’m quite safe walking alone in my city.”

“I’d prefer to accompany you, My Lady, if you’ll allow it.”

She held his gaze, unsmiling.  “I’m sure you would, My Lord.  Come along then.  I find I’m in a hurry.  We need to stop for Kai and get back.”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

“What happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“Lys, you’re entire mood has shifted.  You barely spoke on the walk, or should I say run, home.  What happened?  Did Lord de Rievaulx offend you?”

“No, no he did what he intended all along.  Well, perhaps that did offend me.  I assume he’s party to the conspiracy.”

“Conspiracy?”

“To convince me to marry him.”

“What!”

“Yes, the plan appears to be to let me get to know him, possibly to ensure we don’t hate each other or maybe to allow him to approve of me.  Once he deems me acceptable, they will make me marry him.  Pippa will marry her Guy on Summerday.  Why not marry us both off at the same time?”

“Who told you that?”

“Pippa, although she didn’t mean to.”

“She just said it?”

“No, she said ‘exploring the markets in Verchiel and Lydes would be fun _when we visited each other.’_   Not when I visited her, but when we visited _each other_.”

“I see.”

“I’m not sure who to yell at.  Papa, Mum, the king and queen….Papa and King Cailan for sure.  They must have agreed to a betrothal when they were in Orlais.  I suspect everyone else knows.  I’m such a fool.  I thought I was having an innocent flirtation with an attractive man.”

“Lys, he is attractive.  You do get along with him.”

“So I should marry him?’

Kai said nothing.

“He’s Orlesian, Kai.  If I marry him, I go there alone.  You can’t go.  Sherpa can’t go.  I’ll be alone.”  She walked to the window and wrapped her arms around herself.  “I’ve never been alone, Kai.  It…terrifies me.”

“You don’t get terrified, Lys Cousland.  And of course I would go with you.”

“No you won’t.  And yes, I do get terrified.”  She glanced back at Kai.  “Of spiders.”

Kai laughed, “Well, yes, spiders.”

Lys spoke more seriously.  “I’m terrified of being alone without family and friends.  You can’t come to Orlais, Kai, you’re an elf.”

“I _was_ aware of that, My Lady.”

Lys ignored her sarcasm.  “I will have no power to protect you there.  We saw how powerless I can be in Val Forêt.  After that assault by the town guard, you should be _aware_ of how elves can be treated in Orlais.  I’m going to lie down.”  She first went to her desk and wrote a note.  “Take this to Oriana.  It says I’m not feeling well.  Perhaps the fish I ate at lunch.  I’m not going to dinner.”

“Lys.”

“I need time to think, Kai.  I can’t face them all tonight.  I’ll work through it and face them tomorrow.”

“Oriana will want to see you.”

“I know.  I’ll talk to her when she comes in.  She’ll understand better than the others.  Even tho’ she loves Fergus, coming here was scary.  She’ll understand why I need the time and cover for me.”

Kai smiled as she took the note.

“What!”

“You’re thinking and you’re willing to talk to Oriana.  That’s good.”

Lys hugged her.  “I don’t know what I’ll do without all of you.  Now go.  I am going to lie down and brood.”  She gave Kai a weak smile.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The thick castle wall in Lys’ bedroom provided a deep embrasure framing the large leaded glass window and providing a cushioned window seat.  The view through the small thick panes was wavy and distorted.  _Like my thoughts._   Lys sat with a blanket wrapped around her, her back against one side of the opening.  Her arms hugged her bent legs.  Her head, turned to look out through the window, rested on her knees.  On a sunny day the blue of the sky, the blue-green of the sea and the green of the open land rolling down to the cliffs made a fuzzy picture similar to the abstract ones she had seen at museums in Areth.  Now the panes showed only grey dimming into black, as the afternoon sun retreated behind clouds.

 _It’s the shock.  I would handle this better if someone had talked to me first._   _Why didn’t they talk to me?_   _He is an emissary.  He does work with father on the mining contract.  That’s not made up, but there’s no need for him to stay for Satinalia unless it’s to court me.  What a fool they must think I am not to understand that.  Yet I didn’t.  If Pippa hadn’t misspoken, I would have flirted with him throughout the visit._

She heard the outer door open and soft voices.  Then a knock.

“Lys, would you speak with Oriana?”  Kai asked.

Lys sighed.  “Yes, send her in please, Kai.  With a candle.”

Oriana came through the door holding a single candle.  “Lys, you don’t want any other light?”

“No.  The dark suits me right now.”

Oriana put the candle on a chest by the bed and sat in a chair near the window seat.  “So Pippa said something to upset you?”

“She said we would have fun ‘exploring the markets in Lydes and Verchiel when we visited _each other_.’  Not when I visited her.  Not in Verchiel, where she’ll live, but Lydes too.  Did you know?  Does Fergus?”  Her head, still resting on her knees, faced Oriana.

“Indirectly.  Fergus made me promise not to say anything to you.  I’m sorry Lys.  He…your father didn't tell him.  He heard of it from Teyrn Loghain.”

“Am I the only one who didn’t know?”

Oriana’s brow furrowed in concern.  “Teryn Loghain learned of the plans from Howe, not your father or King Cailan.  King Cailan wanted Delilah to marry in Orlais too.  Howe said no, but later told Loghain about the king’s request.   The two of them assumed he would propose a marriage for you as well. Loghain mentioned it to Fergus on their ride from Ostagar.  Your father admitted the truth to them both when they asked.  Your mother didn’t know right away either.  She opposed it at first.  Suggested other matches-“

“-other matches?”

“Loghain.”

“What!  He’s like a second father or an uncle to me.  That’s”…she took a deep breath.  “I can’t even….”

“Neither could he.  He said no for those reasons when Teyrn Bryce asked.  Besides, Anora had other plans for him.”

“Other plans….”  Lys raised her head, eyes narrowed as she remembered who rode with him.  “Delilah?”

“Yes.”

Lys smiled.  “That’s masterful.  She’ll make a wonderful Teyrna and escape from her father.  No wonder Anora sent them off riding.”  Her smile faded.  “Anora doesn’t care if I’m sent off to Orlais?”

“Queen Anora doesn’t know.”

Lys sat up.  “Anora doesn’t know.”

“The proposed betrothal for you happened during the visit to Orlais.  Only your father and King Cailan knew.  They kept it from Arl Eamon and Bann Teagan too.  If King Cailan had not spoken with Howe, no one else would have known.  Well, I imagine you mother would, but not the rest of us.”

“And Lord de Rievaulx, he’s part of this…this conspiracy isn’t he?  And why do you keep saying proposed?”

“Yes.  He and your father spent time together in Orlais, so your father could get to know him.  Lord Bryce insisted you and he must meet before he spoke with you or agreed to a betrothal.  Teyrn Bryce also insisted that the final decision would be yours.  You can say no.  King Cailan agreed.”

“Why not just tell me.  Let me meet him.  Why the trickery?”

“Your father thought it better if you met Lord de Rievaulx and formed your opinion with no pressure.  He’s had House Haris check on Lord Denis and his family.  He asked Teyrn Loghain and Fergus to get to know Lord Denis, once they found out.  He wanted to know if they thought him suitable.  I think you must realize in what high esteem Teyrn Loghain holds you when you realize he agreed.”

Lys sniffed.  “I must thank him at some point,” she said with some sarcasm.  “Fergus too I suppose.”  She swung her legs over the lip of the window seat.  Her hands gripped the edge of the seat formed by the opening.  “You’re a good friend Oriana.  Thank you for telling me.  It helps clarify my thoughts.”  She stared at the floor.  “I do appreciate Loghain’s tolerance in this.”  She looked up at Oriana.  “Will you keep mother away tonight.  As much as I love, Mum, she’ll want to discuss this.   I do want her thoughts, but first I need to think.”

“Of course, Lys.  Kai will stay and guard the door.  Sherpa too.”

“How terrifying is it, Oriana?  To leave everything you know and come to a distant land to live with strangers.”

“I can’t compare Lys.  I came to live with people I knew.  I’d met you father many times and your mother twice.  I loved Fergus.  I knew there would be visits between our families.  Ferelden and Antiva are allies and trading partners.  I was nervous, anxious at times, but never afraid.  I had, Camilla, my lady’s maid and Zev to protect me.  You will have Kai and Sher-“

“-No.  No, I won’t.  Elves are no better than slaves in Orlais.  Some live as toys of the wealthy and are well fed and clothed if they behave.  The rest live worse than the chevaliers mounts.  Kai had a horrible experience in Val Chevin when we went.  It was like Denerim all over again, but I couldn’t protect her.  If Cousin Samuel hadn’t been nearby with several soldiers from the Wrath, they might have taken both of us.  Chevaliers most certainly would have.  I won’t take her back there unless I know I can protect her.

Sherpa would be relegated to the kennel and expected to hunt, perform and breed.  If she hurt one of their hunting dogs, she would be put down.  If I go…when I go, it will be alone.”

“I see.  I should apologize, then.”

“Why?”

“I thought you might be over dramatizing this.  I know it’s a shock, so I didn’t say anything, but I understand your reaction now.”  The Antivan woman stood and put her arms around Lys.  “He seems nice, Lyssie.  Perhaps you could come to care for him?”  Oriana sat next to her good sister in the embrasure, keeping her arm around Lys’ shoulders.

“If the man we see is the same man I will know in Orlais,“ Lys murmured.  “Or does he already have a mistress and children.  Am I only a Fereldan brood mare, bought at the Empress’s behest to give him heirs to the Mabari Throne?  Even if he is a good man, what about the rest of them?”

“There’s no mistress or children.  The Haris operatives would have discovered that.  The rest you won’t know until you live there, I’m afraid.  What do you mean, heirs to the Mabari Throne?”

“We descend from Calenhad, Oriana.  It would give Orlais claims to the Fereldan throne.”

Oriana put a palm to her forehead.  “How stupid of me.  Of course, I see.”  Her brow furrowed again.  “Why would King Cailan encourage such a match?”

“I don’t know.  There’s talk that the Empress tried to convince him to set Anora aside and marry her.  Maybe this is Cailan’s way of diverting her attention.  Objectively, not a bad plan.  Clever of Cailan to think of it.  Papa would have to agree.  Even Anora might see it as necessary.”

“Lys, remember your father did not promise you to him.  He said he would ensure you met Lord de Rievaulx, but that the decision to accept him was up to you.  You can say no.”

Lys bit the side of her upper lip.  “Typical Cailan.  He’ll feel magnanimous about allowing me a choice until I do say no.  Then the whole family will be out of favor.  Even if I exile myself, he’ll take it out on them.  He knows I’ll do my duty.  Father too, for that matter.  There was never a choice.”

Oriana stood.  “That’s a very cynical view, Lys.  I’m not sure you’re right.”

“Can I risk being wrong?”

”I suppose not.  You should talk to Tyrna Eleanor tomorrow.  She might know more?”  Oriana sighed.  “I asked for a tray to be left for you and Kai.  You might get hungry.  Just cheese, apples, hypocras and some pasties.  Shall I check on you again?”

“Not tonight.  I promise, I’ll be here in the morning.  Check then.”  Lys smiled.  “Thank you, Oriana.  You’re too good to me.”

Oriana squeezed her hand.  “I’ll do my best to distract your mother and the queen.”

“Oh Maker, I almost forgot about Anora.  Yes, please do.  Tell no one but Fergus.  I don’t want you keeping secrets from each other.”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

A few turns of the glass later, Lys came out of her bedroom.  Kai sat in front of the fire mending.  

“Kai, go down for supper.  I’ll be fine.  No one will bother me while they’re entertaining.”  She nodded at the full tray of food.  “I won’t starve.”

“I finished making slits in your new gowns.  You can arm yourself.”

Lys giggled softly.  “I may need to.”

“I _will_ go with you.”

“No, you won’t.  Not right away at least.  I’ll find some Highever girl and take her.  Don’t worry, I won’t accept a girl they choose for me and have a spy in my midst.”

“A human you mean.’

“Yes.  A human will be safer.”  They stared at each other, neither giving in.  Finally Lys spoke.  “I don’t want to go alone.  I dread it, but it would be far worse if they hurt you because I selfishly had you come along.  Kai, I want you safe.  I can’t protect you there.  We can’t protect us.  We’re good, but we can’t fight every guard or chevalier or noble in a castle.”

Kai let her eyes drop.  “No, we can’t.”

“It would be Denerim or Val Chevin all over again, only this time we would lose.  I won’t let that happen.”

“Would I stay here?”

“Here.  At House Haris.  With the Rasiae.  Whatever you want to do.  Just not with me in Orlais.”

“So you’ve decided?”

“I guess I have.  I’m afraid to say no.  I fear the consequences to everyone I love.  It’s my duty.  I’m a Cousland and we always do our duty.”  She almost smiled and then whispered, “For Ferelden.” as she turned to face the fire.

Kai had never seen Lys look so defeated.  She just stood staring into the flames, arms wrapped around her waist.  Kai pulled her into a hug, which was always awkward given the disparity in their heights.  Lys’ chin almost cleared the top of Kai’s auburn hair. 

“There are no good options Kai.”  She finally put her arms around the elf and hugged.  “Now go.  I’m alright.  I’m hungry actually.”

As soon as Kai left, Lys put on her cloak and grabbed a blanket.  She stuffed the food from the tray into her satchel, but not the wine.  A water skin hung near the hearth.  She took it and left, Sherpa padding along behind her.  With everyone either eating or serving, the hallways were empty.  She made her way to the northwest tower’s entrance.  Fergus found her there much later.

“Lys.” Fergus crouched down beside her. 

“Mmmm….Hmm?”

“Lyssie wake up.”

“Fergus.”  She sat up and looked around.  “Oh, still here.  Wasn’t a dream.”

“What wasn’t a dream?”

“Being sold off to Orlais.”  She sat up to face him.  “Oriana spoke to you?”

“She did.  After a bit of badgering on my part.”

“Is he a good man Fergus?”

“I think so.  I don’t know his family though.  Da doesn’t either.  He’s only met Denis.”  He sat against the wall beside her.  “Oriana was right, by the way, Anora does not know.  Da said Cailan believed she would oppose it.  That may make a difference.”

“No.  I won’t be the cause of Anora and Cailan fighting.  There are too many bad consequences if I resist, or act badly or say no.  It’s not as if I have other marriage options.  I’ll have to marry eventually.  Perhaps this will work out.”

“You could leave.”

“Go to Areth?”

“Yes.”

“That’s tantamount to saying no.  It’s definitely behaving badly.  How is that a better option?” 

Fergus just shook his head. 

“I can run away in the future, if it doesn’t work out.  If I don’t have a child, for example.  I don’t think I could leave a child behind though.”

“You could take a child.”

“And start a war.”  She smiled sadly.  “Fereldan wife absconds with heir to the dukedom of Lydes and throne of Ferelden.”

“What?”

“Why do you think they want me married to the empress’s cousin Fergus.  We have Theirin blood.  They wanted Alistair too, to father little Theirins.  The Chantry was ready to send him away when he was conscripted.”  She saw his look of surprise, then understanding.  “Cailan saw it as the only way to save him.  It seems to be working.  The Empress must realize he’s of little use now that he’s a warden, so she’s seeking alternatives.”  She frowned.  “How is he?”

“Doing well, actually.  He’s the Warden Commander’s adjutant.  He’s made some good friends.  He’s…content I suppose would be the word.”  Fergus settled back against the wall next to her.  “Why is Alistair of no use to Orlais?”

“Wardens rarely father children.  Perhaps that’s why he’s been allowed to stay in Ferelden.  It has to do with the taint in the blood.  A ruler should know that, although I doubt Cailan does.” 

“That, or Duncan likes him and finds him talented.  He is Warden Commander of the Grey, not an Orlesian subject, despite what Loghain thinks.  He’s giving Alistair a lot of responsibility.  Alistair’s templar training and his training with Loghain make him more talented than most recruits.”

Lys smiled.  “So, he’s made the best of it as he always does.  That’s good.  I can do no less.”

“You’ve decided?”

“Yes, I’m just indulging in more brooding.  I’ll be better in the morning.  I’ll play along.  It was the shock.  I completely misunderstood Denis’ attentions.  I thought it was a simple flirtation.”  She smiled sadly.  “I was enjoying it.”

“Perhaps you should talk with him.”

“Not yet.  I’ll let him make the first move.  No sense disillusioning the poor man right away, if I’m going to say yes.  Unless he’s here to approve of me?”  She looked hopeful.  “If I offend him, will he disavow me?”

“I’m afraid you’re pre-approved, Lys.  He has no choice either from what Da says.”

“Then I won’t shock him right away.  He’s not used to confrontations with aggressive Fereldan women much less Cousland ones.  He took my teasing well, but I suspect he’d respond less well to yelling.”  She grinned.  “Or violence.  Maybe we should spar.”

Fergus chuckled.  “Perhaps not shocking him would be wisest.  Coming in would be wise too.  There’s another storm coming.”  He looked up at the sky where not one star shone.

“Is everyone asleep?”

“Everyone except Oriana and Kai.  They’re waiting in your rooms.”

“Then I better come down.”  She stood and gathered her blanket and satchel.  “Mum’s not there too?”

“No.  Oriana told her you were asleep, but that she’d check on you.  She said you asked her not to, but it was the only way to forestall Mum.”

“Andraste bless her.  Fergus you are a lucky, lucky man.’

He grinned.  “I know, Lissie.”  He put his arm around her.  “Now come on, so we can all get some sleep tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. I hope you continue to read and enjoy. If you have time, reviews, short or long, are always welcome!
> 
> Sorry for the lengthy pause. Unexpected RL family issues took all my attention for a few weeks. I should be back on track with weekly posts from now on – barring any further unexpected crisis.
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eyes. Her astute comments improve every post. Any errors are all mine. Thanks to all who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. I do love reviews and welcome comments, encouragement, suggestions and critiques. 
> 
> Special thanks to those who reviewed or commented: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, caraine, Eastern Violet, ElyssaCousland and SnowHelm. You inspire me and make me think. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback.


	60. Needs Must

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 29 Dragon Harvestmere and Satinalia. Highever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world. I sometimes incorporate game dialogue, although not usually in its original context. Either way, that dialogue belongs to Bioware. 
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

"Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…"  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 60: NEEDS MUST**

* * *

  **9:29 Dragon  26 Harvestmere  ===  Castle Cousland**

At sunrise, Lys appeared in the small dining hall to break her fast.  She looked tired, but otherwise fine.  Only her father and Loghain sat at the table, eating.

“Feeling better, Lys?”  Her father sounded concerned.

“I do.  No lasting effects.  I’m hungry this morning." She turned to, Morag,  the servant Toasted bread with honey sounds good, some hot tea, and some porridge, please.”

Morag hurried to slice the bread and toast it over the coals in the hearth.  Another servant ladled out the oat porridge adding dried fruit, nuts and honey before placing the bowel in front of her. 

She smiled at the servant.  “Thank you, Morag.  It looks perfect.”  She ate a spoonful of the porridge. “Did you enjoy your ride yesterday, Teyrn Loghain?” 

“I did, Lys.  Delilah proved a good horse woman.”

“She is.  We ride out with Anora frequently you know.”

“I suppose I didn’t realize it.”

“Did you find any fossils?”

“We did.  We managed to avoid high tide as well.  A very enjoyable day.”

“We had fun in the market.  Lord de Rievaulx quite happily tolerated my shopping.”

“You get along with him, Lys?”

“I do.  He’s pleasant enough for an Orlesian.”

Loghain coughed.

“You seem to tolerate him, Teyrn Loghain.”

“As you say, both he and Lord Guy seem pleasant…for Orlesians.”

Bryce shook his head.  “What plans do you have today?”

“I’m spending the day with Her Majesty.  I am still her Lady, father.”  Lys stared at Teyrn Bryce for a moment.  “I’m not aware that that’s changed.”

Bryce frowned.  _Why did she say father?_   He gave Lys a measured look, but she smiled back.  _Too brightly perhaps?_ “Of course it hasn’t, Lys.”

“Anora wants to return to the weaving workshop to see the weavers at work.  I’ve made arrangements.  If the weather doesn’t turn bad, we might walk through the market.  She’ll wear simple clothes and a hood, so no one should take notice.”

“She’ll have her guards?”  Loghain didn’t quite glare as he spoke.

“Of course, but at a distance.  Kai and I will be armed.”

“Will the Orlesian go too?”

“No.  Just Anora, Delilah if she wants to, and me.”

“I don’t like it, but Higheverport is almost as safe as Gwaren.” 

Lys bit her lip as she saw her father stifle a smile. 

Loghain looked between them. 

“We’ll keep her safe Teyrn Loghain.”  Lys said quietly.

Anora entered the room. “Keep who safe?”

“You, Your Majesty, if you still want to venture forth today.”

“Of course I’ll be safe.  Father you wor…you need to trust that Lys and my guards will keep me safe.  I can defend myself if need be.”

“What, you’ll carry you’re bow?”

Anora smirked.  “No, I’ll carry my dagger and throwing knife.”

“What?”  He scowled.  “This is your doing I assume, Lady Cousland?”

“I think we should all be able to defend ourselves.”  Lys replied.

“Is she competent?”

Lys giggled.  “Anora?  Have you ever seen her not be competent?”  She glanced at the queen.  “I’m sorry Your Majesty, for the impertinence.”

Anora replied after she stopped laughing.  “Does that answer your question, father?”

Loghain held his hands up palms out. “Clearly, ladies.  Bryce.  Ready to go?”

Teyrn Cousland chuckled.  “Quite, Loghain.  Let’s escape before my wife arrives and we’re outnumbered.” 

“Feeling better, Lys?”  Anora asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty.  Much better.”

Anora frowned.  “You’re rarely ill.”

“No, I’m not.”  Lys took a deep breath.  “I wasn’t ill last night, Your Majesty.  I needed time to think about some disturbing news.” Lys spoke quietly noting the servants were some distance away.  

“About?”

Lys looked at the servants on the far side of the room and whispered.  “My betrothal.”

Anora’s wide eyes and silence answered Lys question. 

“You didn’t know.”  She continued to whisper and kept an eye on the others in the room.

“Something my husband and your father arranged in Orlais, perhaps?”  Anora pursed her lips.

Lys nodded.  “Pending my agreement or so I’m led to believe.  Hence, the Satinalia visitors.  I’m to get to know him better and succumb to his charms.”

“You found out yesterday?”

“Pippa misspoke and I picked up-“ 

“-Pippa knew!” 

“Only recently, I think.  Her Lord Guy looked quite annoyed with her.  I suspect he told her in confidence.  It all became clear to me, but I needed time to…adjust.”

You adjust quickly.”

“Needs must.”

“When the demons lead,” Anora finished.  “How did it become clear?”

“Pippa said we would visit _each other_.  After she said it Lord Guy poked her and looked disturbed, she blushed and Lord Denis looked uncomfortable.  

“And you put it together.”

“It wasn’t hard given all the evidence.”

“Did you make a choice while you…adjusted? Will you agree to this?”

“I will.  I’ll let it play out, however, so I hope you’ll keep this confidential.”

“Of course.”  Anora clenched the hands lying on the table.  “He knew I’d oppose this.  He kept it from me until it was too late to change it.”

Lys reached out and covered a hand.  “Anora, don’t.  It is too late.  Don’t allow this to create a rift between you and Cailan.  It’s not worth it.  It will work out.  Pippa’s betrothal grew out of affection, but she’s not senior enough to satisfy the Empress.  _Nor does she have Theirin blood._  I’ll be fine.  Lord de Rievaulx seems pleasant enough.  Even your father tolerates him.”

“You’ll give up everything.  Your country, your family, your dreams.”

“I will do my duty, Your Majesty.  Just as you do yours.”

Anora let her hands relax.  “Your word, but it might be mine too.  Mac Tirs and Couslands…we do our duty.”

“Anora, my dreams ended years ago.  There’s no match for me in Ferelden.”  Lys’ mouth quirked upwards.  “I realized yesterday, I haven’t had so much as a flirtation since I left Cumberland for fear of offending one noble or leading another on.  I certainly have no desire to marry any of them.”

“Flirtation?”

“Harmless ones, Anora.  Nothing reputation shattering.”  Her smile disappeared.  “I should have taken some of the Nevarran flirtations more seriously, as Mum suggested.  I see that now.”

“There could have been a match here if you and Father would-“

“-no.  That feels so wrong to me.”

“He said the same.”

“There you have it.  Delilah will be a fine Teyrna.” 

“She will, I think.  Gwaren’s been neglected.”

**29 Dragon  Harvestmere  ===  Highever**

The remaining days before Satinalia passed pleasantly.  The storm, which had threatened the night Fergus found Lys on the tower, amounted to nothing.  The next day, the sun came out and provided more warmth than usual.  Soon, nothing remained of the snow.  Anora and Lys visited the Weaver’s Guild.  Lys and Denis did the same on another day, as well as visiting the notary, factor and manager at House Haris.  The company rode out towards Star Lake, they gathered more fossils along the beach cliffs and visited the market and shops in the city again.  Lys found Denis de Rievaulx to be good company and acquiesced when the others paired them for outings and meals.  By the day of Satinalia eve, they had agreed to call each other Lady Melysande and Lord Denis.

Lys avoided the conversations she knew her parents, her father in particular, wanted to have.  Teyrn Bryce did not push.  He and Lord Denis worked on the mining plans each morning.  To Denis’ surprise, Lys not only joined them, but offered informed analysis and recommendations. 

Bryce watched his daughter with pride. _Let him see who she is.  Know that he can gain a partner._  He hoped Denis would understand her value.  Few knew Lys had worked for House Haris as Layne Haris.  Bryce saw no reason to tell Denis, or King Cailan for that  matter.  He believed he could trust Queen Anora and Loghain would keep their knowledge to themselves.  The knowledge Lys had gained in the past four years could still be put to good use as Denis’ wife.

On Satinalia Eve, Lys and Denis left Bryce in his studio with Seneschal Mowry. 

“Would you take a walk with me?”  Denis said.

“Yes.  Did you have a destination in mind?”

“I do.  I need to pick up a gift I ordered.  I thought you might walk into the city with me.  Perhaps we could have dinner there.  Your Mum said dinner today would be informal.  We could miss it.”

Lys tilted her head.  “I suppose so.  I might have a few final gifts to get myself.”  She laughed.  “I always buy too many gifts.”

“Not a surprise, My Lady.  You’re very generous…with your time, your attention, and your company.”  He smiled.

“I’ll get my cloak and boots and let Kai and Mum know I’ll be gone.”   Lys went to her rooms to change.  She managed to find Oriana, but not her mother.  She told Oriana her plans and requested that her good sister let Teyrna Eleanor know.

“Still avoiding the conversation with your Mum?”

“Yes.  I’ve made up my mind.  There’s nothing to discuss, Oriana.  I’m behaving impeccably.  What more could they ask?”

“You are Lys.  Maybe your Mum wants to offer support.  Someone to talk to.  You’ve always talked with her.”

“I know.”  Lys walked over to the bookcase and ran her hand along the shelf.  “I need to do this alone.  I can’t explain it, but I do.  I don’t want Mum giving me advice or explaining why it’s necessary.  I am going to marry this man.  I need to figure it out for myself.  I’m sorry if I’m hurting her, but she’s not leaving home to marry a stranger.  She never had to do that.  I know I should have taken the Nevarran suitors more seriously.”  She stopped.  “Maker, I’m babbling.  Sorry, Oriana.  Please tell her for me?”

“I will Lys, but please talk to her soon.”

Lys nodded, squeezing Oriana’s hand as she left.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lys and Denis walked into the city chatting amicably about a song they had learned together, the design of weaving patterns, which intrigued the mathematician in Denis, and the differences in how Orlais and Ferelden celebrated Satinalia.  Lys mentioned how well he was learning to play her Fereldan harp, a smaller instrument than the harp used in Orlais.  She teased him about being mistaken for a bard.  When they reached the square, Denis steered Lys over to a jewelry shop near the Guild building. 

“I bought pair of gloves for you mother and had them decorated by the jeweler.  I’d like your advice…approval.”

“How sweet of you.”

They went in and the jeweler brought out an exquisite pair of leather gloves dyed Cousland blue.  The jeweler had worked a pattern of small cabochon emeralds into laurel branches.  Tiny pearls formed the stems.  The unique design used the Cousland laurel, but not the standard wreath.

“Denis, they’re gorgeous.  Mum will love them.  Master Marchon,” Lys said to the jeweler, “you’ve outdone yourself.”

The jeweler smiled as he wrapped the gloves.  “Shall I get the other gifts, Lord de Rievaulx?”

“Yes, please.”

Master Marchon handed him a second package.

“You don’t need my approval on that?”

“Not yet.”

Lys tilted her head, but held her tongue. 

Denis smiled, enjoying her puzzled reaction.  “Let’s go eat.”

They entered the finest inn in Highever, the Smuggler’s Nook.  To Lys surprise, they were expected.  The innkeeper ushered them to a semi-private alcove, enclosed on three sides, with a curtain available to cover the fourth.  Denis did not close the curtain after they slid onto the bench that surrounded three sides of the table.

“Lord Denis, this is somewhat unorthodox.”

“So are you, My Lady Melysande.  I’m sure you’ve visited the Nook before.”

“Well, of course, I meant the secluded table.”

“We’ll keep the curtains open.  I wanted to talk and not be overheard.  In summer, we might take a ride, but in winter, I prefer a warm room and some fine wine to a windy beach or cliff top.”

“So serious, but I agree, warm is good.”  _So is this when he reveals himself?_

Denis clasped hands lay on the table.  He right thumb rubbed the palm of his left hand as he took a deep breath.  “I know you visit Cumberland and serve at Court in Denerim.  I would guess you’ve indulged in flirtations.” 

Her eyebrows rose. 

“Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re quite correct, not that it’s your concern.”  Lys frowned slightly.  _That’s an odd approach._   “Are you questioning my reputation, My Lord?  Wondering if I have liaisons which would embarrass my family?  Or yours?”

“No!  No, I only mean to say I rather hope that we have become friends.  That our time together is more than a casual flirtation to you.”  He looked down at his hands, smiled and shook his head.  “I’m doing this badly.  What I mean is discussions of mining methods or the mathematics of textile design aren’t particularly flirtatious.”

Lys smiled in spite of herself.  _Damn he is even charming when he’s awkward._ “Well, I’m unconventional enough to find such discussions extremely alluring.”

He laughed, “I see.  I’ll keep that in mind.”  He grew serious again. “Lys, I enjoy your company whether we discuss mining or music.  I’ve never met anyone quite like you.  Well, your mother and, perhaps Queen Anora, but not before I came here.  It must be the Fereldan air or water.”  He stopped and waited as the server placed wine, cheese, fruit and nuts on the table.  “I want to apologize.  Meeting you.  Acting as if…Lady Melysande, it’s all been a sham.”

“A sham?  We aren’t friends?”

“No…yes, we are.”  He sighed again.  “We should have had this conversation when you arrived.  Or before.”

“Before I arrived?  That would have been awkward.”

He laughed again.  “I mean I should have insisted your father to speak to you.”

“Denis, say what you have to say.”

“I want you to know that I spoke with your father about a betrothal between us when he was in Val Royeaux.  I was…told to do that.  By my father who was acting on instructions from the Empress.  I obeyed.”

“I see.  I will admit I don’t find that admission very alluring or romantic.”

“Lys, Lady Melysande, your father wanted you to meet me first without knowing the arrangements he and I had made.  I honored that, but I’m not sure, now that I know you, that it was a good idea.”

“Why?”

“It’s dishonest.  It’s a lie of omission I suppose, not telling you, but dishonest nonetheless.”

“So now that you do know me, do you want to walk away?”

“No!  No, far from it.  I hope you don’t either.” he took out the small package from Master Marchon and unwrapped it.  “I hope, Lady Melysande, you’ll agree to a betrothal.  That you will agree to marry me.  I think we could make a life together.”  He handed her the betrothal ring.  “I know, it’s supposed to be exchanged in the Chantry during the ceremony, but that seems so impersonal.  I wanted to make amends in some small way.”

Lys held the ring.  A band of emeralds formed a laurel wreath.  Small pearls punctuated the base of each leaf.  Her stomach clenched.  She bit her lower lip.  _It’s a copy of Alistair’s silver ring_.

“I saw the silver one you always wear, and I thought…it’s not very original, but I know your family and Highever mean everything to you.”

“It’s lovely, Denis.” She hoped her voice remained steady.  “And very thoughtful.  I’m shocked you even noticed my ring.”

“I like noticing things about you.”

She held his gaze, and then looked at the ring.  “You…you’re so thoughtful.  Are you really Orlesian?”

“What?”  He sighed.  “Do you hate us so much?”

“I’m learning to discriminate, but, yes, we assume the worst with Orlesians.  The Occupation was horrible.”  _Not the most romantic segue, but at least I can compose myself._

“I believe that.  I know how some chevaliers can behave.  My father says it was awful.  He did what he had to, he says, but came to oppose Emperor Florian.  He supported Empress Celene when she opposed the Emperor. Not all of us are terrible.”

“Does he regret supporting Empress Celene?”

“He doesn’t say.”

“She wants Ferelden back.”

“Yes, she does, but not by conquest.  She wants Fereldan to pay homage, to be a province of Orlais.”

“I can’t support that.  We are a kingdom in our own right.”

“I…understand.  I won’t ask you to.”

“But you will ask me to keep silent.”

“I…it might be the wiser course.”

“Others might want open support, even if you don’t.  How can we reconcile that?”

“I don’t know, Lys.  I just know I’d like to try.  We can make a life in Lydes, away from Val Royeaux.”

“Denis, you will be your father’s heir.  You…we won’t be able to hide in Lydes.  Can you just walk away from The Game?”

“My father does it.  He rarely goes to the capital.”

“No, he sends you.  Who will you send?”

Denis frowned, his hands moving against each other again.  “We’ll focus on the mines.  The wool trade.  As long as we bring in gold, it might work.  The Empress wants the mines developed.  She’s anxious for the trade.  Nevarra’s success has made her nervous.”

“Another country she would like to make into an Orlesian province.  She won’t need your mines if she regains the Blasted Hills.”

Denis smiled.  “You would be brilliant, you know.”

“Brilliant?  At what?”

“The Game.  My father is good, but with you, we could accomplish so much.”

“I don’t know the players, Denis.  You can’t play The Game in the dark.”

“My father and I do.  The three of us could…well we could make Lydes powerful and safe for us.”

“You would trust me?”

“I can’t do it without you.  It’s one of the things I love about you.  We’ll build a Haris compound on the coast.  Continue agreements with House Haris and your father.”  He grinned.  “Maybe I can find a mabari to imprint on me and we can breed them.”

“Breed mabari’s?”

“Sherpa and I have an understanding.  She’d love to.”

Lys burst out laughing.  “I’ll admit it; your friendship with Sherpa does surprise me.” 

She sat quietly sipping her wine as the empty dishes from the fish course were removed.  The oysters had been perfect.  The server set a steaming pork pie on the table next to a platter of roasted root vegetables. 

“Alright.”

“Alright?”

“Yes.  I’m saying yes, I’ll agree.”  Her mouth quirked up into a lopsided smile.  “I like a challenge,” she said softly.

The smile that came over him surprised her.  _Maybe he does care about me.  Worse, I like him.  More important, King Cailan will be pleased.  My family will be safe.  Maybe I can play The Game to Ferelden’s benefit._

Lys reached up and pulled the curtain closed and then slid around the bench to sit next to Denis.  “Normally, I think, the man proposes and places the ring on the woman’s finger.  Then, he confirms the agreement with a kiss.”  She smiled. “I agree that the Chantry is a very public venue for what should be a private promise.  We’ll have to do that at some point, but since you have the ring….”

Denis smiled.  “You’re propositioning me?”

“For a kiss.”

“I accept.”  He leaned forward only to meet her hand on his chest.

“The ring first, My Lord.”

“Right, guilty of over eagerness.”  He took the ring and placed it on her left ring finger.  She wiped her eyes with her other hand.  “Lys, is something wrong?”

“No, it’s lovely.  It’s…what I always hoped a betrothal ring would look like.”

He placed two fingers under her chin and leaned forward.  At first, they only touched lips, but before he pulled away he slid his tongue across her lower lip.  She opened her mouth slightly.  Their tongues met.  Her hand, which had been on his chest, slipped around his neck as his dropped down her back. The kiss grew in intensity so quickly it surprised them both.  They pulled apart.

“Well, I suppose there’s some attraction there.” 

Denis laughed.  “Would it frighten you if I say I care about you?”

“A little.  I’m not sure I can say the same yet.  I like you.”

“That’s a step in the right direction.”  His mouth quirked.  “I’ve been open to caring about you from the start.  You’ve been conducting a flirtation and trying to not care.”

“Was it so obvious?”

“No.  It’s just that I’ve done that.”

Lys said nothing, but raised an eyebrow.

“A young woman who I might have cared about more than was appropriate.  I hurt her, but ended it before it got too complicated.”

“I’m going to be brutally blunt.”

“Go on.”

“Do you have a mistress?  Or children?”

His eyes opened wide.  “Not the question I expected.  You are well informed about our customs.”

“I’ve spent a lot of time in Cumberland, Denis.”

“I’ll have to remember that.  No to both questions.  Almost, but as I said, I succeeded in keeping the flirtation innocent and broke it off.  My father had no mistress until after my mother died.  He’s had only one since.  I came from a monogamous line of men.”

“Good to know.”  She blushed slightly.  “I suppose, since I asked you to be frank, I should too.  I have had flirtations, but never more than that.  If that matters.  Like you, almost, but it never felt quite right.”

“And if it doesn’t feel quite right with me?”

“I suspect that might not be a problem, My Lord, but I’m a Cousland, I do my duty.”

“Not the most romantic reply, My Lady.”

“No, but an honest one.”  She tilted her head.  “I‘ve never been offi…betrothed before.  What happens next?”

He laughed.  “You think I’m an expert.  It’s a first for me as well.  I think you should speak with your father.  He expected to talk with you before I did, but we didn’t specifically agree to that.  He might be annoyed with me.”

“Oh, that’s bad.  You know he has a terrible temper.”

“He does?”  Denis asked, surprised.

“Oh yes.  And Loghain will support him.  You’ll have both of them furious at you.”

His eyes narrowed.  “You’re teasing.”

One side of her mouth quirked up.  “I am.  I’ll talk to him tonight.”  She slid back to the other side of table as he opened the curtain. 

They bantered as they ate their meal.  She asked about life in Lydes.  He described his father’s household.  She discovered he was an excellent mimic as he impersonated his father’s seneschal, notary, stable master and others on the staff.  What’s more she could tell he loved his lands and his people.  They were not so very different in that. 

He watched her as she got up and gathered her cloak.  _She’s apprehensive and why wouldn’t she be.  She’s agreeing to leave home and family for a land of people she thinks of as, if not enemies, then opponents._

“Lys, we not monsters.  It will be different, although not so different from Cumberland I think.  You won’t be alone.  We’ll be partners.”

She rewarded him with a warm smile.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lys knocked on her father’s studio door.

“Enter.”  Bryce sat in one of the chairs in front of the hearth sipping Starkhaven whiskey.

“Good evening, Papa.” 

“Lys.”

“May we talk?”

“I wondered when you would come to me.  You’ve been avoiding this conversation.”

“You weren’t the person with whom I needed to speak.”

“I wasn’t?”

“You want me to marry Denis, so it is Denis and I who must talk and agree.”  She picked up a glass from the side table and poured a whiskey for herself as her father looked on, surprised.

“Well, yes.”

“We have.”  She sipped the whiskey.  The first swallow burned as it went down.  “This afternoon, I agreed to marry him.”

“What!”

Lys spoke slowly. “This afternoon, I agreed to marry Denis de Rievaulx.” 

“Just like that?”

“No.  We’ve spent most of our time together since I arrived.  You know that.  It’s what you and he planned, after all.”  Lys held her father’s gaze, unsmilingly.  “We talked.  He asked me. I agreed.  He gave me a ring.” 

“I see.  Sounds rather businesslike.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Lys, if you had spoken with me first you would know I left it open.  You could say-“

“-of course I couldn’t.  King Cailan would not feel so magnanimous if I actually _said_ no.  You’d be out of favor and he’d be on his way back to Denerim with the Queen and Princess within a day.  I understand my duty, father.  I said yes.”  Lys emptied her whiskey and poured another, as Bryce raised an eyebrow but said nothing.  “Of course, we must have the Chantry service before he goes.  Perhaps we can have a double service with Pippa and Guy.  I understand the wedding will be a double one on Summerday.”

Bryce had regained some of his composure.  “That is what King Cailan hopes for.  It’s possible the Empress will join us here before going on to Denerim.”

Lys raised her eyebrows.  “Denis did not mention that.”

“It’s not agreed yet.  I think she waits to hear about the formal betrothal announcement before accepting.”  Bryce stood and refilled his own glass.

“Has Delilah accepted Loghain?   I don’t imagine he’ll want to marry in front of the Empress.”

“I don’t know.  I doubt Rendon asked her.  He and Loghain agreed to that betrothal.  Their ceremony will be in Amaranthine on their way back to Denerim.  The wedding too, I imagine.”  Her father squeezed the bridge of his nose.  “Lys, I thought I was doing the right thing, letting you get to know him without the pressure of knowing we discussed a betrothal.”

“You should have told me, but that’s past.  Denis realized the mistake.  It’s why he told me today and proposed privately.  We’ve agreed.  You can announce it if you wish.”  She moved toward the door.

“Lys don’t be angry, please.  He is a good man.”

She stood at the door with her back to him.  _I need to go.  I’ll cry if I stay._ She turned to face her father.“He seems to be.  I find that I like him.”

“Will you show me the ring?”

The door opened behind them.

“What ring?”  Eleanor walked in and stood beside Lys.

“Mum.  I was going to talk to you next.”  She held out her left hand. 

“Emeralds and pearls.  It’s magnificent.”  Bryce frowned.  “It’s modeled on your silver ring isn’t it?”

“Yes.”  She didn’t want him to say it.  _The one Alistair gave you._ “Denis is observant.  He has good taste, at least.”

Eleanor put her arm around Lys.  “It is a magnificent ring, Lys.  It’s says a lot, that it’s your family crest and not his.”

“I…,”  Lys shook her head.  “I hadn’t thought of that, Mum.  You’re right.”

Father and daughter still stood a few paces apart.

“You should have told me, Papa.”

Bryce took three steps and enveloped Lys and Eleanor in a hug.  “I should have told you, pup.”

She started crying then.  “Don’t you dare call me that in front of him.”

Bryce laughed.  “I won’t.”

She pulled out a cloth to wipe her eyes and nose.  “I’m frightened, Papa.  I’ve always had all of you.  When I go with him…I’ve never been alone.”

“We’ll visit.  You’ll visit.  His father will come here in the spring, so we will meet him.  All the reports I’ve had from Cousin Samuel are good.  They’re good people….”

She sniffed, wiping her cheeks with one hand. “For Orlesians?”

“Well, yes.”  His smiled apologetically.

“You had Haris operatives check on him?  Mum, you spoke with Cousin Samuel?”

“Of course we did,” her father replied.  “I…we won’t send you off without being sure of him.”

“The empress wants heirs to provide a claim to the Mabari Throne.”

“I know, but only if there is no Fereldan heir.  Ferelden has an heir, Princess Elin.  Cailan and Anora could have another child.”

“Perhaps I won’t have children.”

“Lys,” her mother frowned remembering her daughter’s herbal skills, not to mention her access to Arethian contraceptives, “don’t do anything foolish.  There’s no reason you and Denis shouldn’t have a family.”

“If you ever feel endangered, there’s a portal in Val Forêt,” Bryce added.  “You can easily get there from Denis’ manor west of Val Royeaux.”

“So you _have_ thought this through, but what if we’re in Lydes?”

“Then it will be trickier, but Cousin Samuel will try to open a small compound on the coast near Lydes.  There’s a small port near the ferry to Val Royeaux.  It’s good Denis asked you about trade and met with the Haris notary and staff here.  It will appear he initiated the contact and suggested the Haris compound.”  He pulled her into another hug.  “We’ll develop a plan.   You’re our daughter, Lys.   We love you.  We’ll make you as safe as we can.”

“I love you too, Papa.”  She smiled.  “I do like him.  I just wish he was Nevarran.”

They both laughed. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t speak up sooner, Lys,”  Eleanor said, glancing at her husband.  “I wanted to speak to you, but-“ 

“-Don’t blame your Mum, Lys.   I think she came to like Denis?”  Bryce looked at Eleanor who nodded yes.  “But she’s not…she didn’t approve when I told her.  Nor did she like not telling you first.  This was my doing.  Mine and King Cailan’s.  Anora wasn’t part of this either.”

“I know I spoke to Anora this morning, but I avoided you, Mum.  I’ve used Oriana as a buffer, I’m afraid.”

“Yes, I noticed,” Eleanor said wryly.

“Please, don’t be angry with her, Mum.”

“I won’t, Lys.  I was glad you spoke with her…with someone.  She would understand leaving home better than I could.”   Eleanor noticed Lys’ puzzled expression.  “Oriana only told me she checked on you.”

“I’ve had an earful about not speaking to you first,” her father added, “and not just from your Mum.  Fergus.  Oriana.  Even Loghain.”

“Then perhaps you’ve been punished enough,” Lys said almost smiling.  “Will you tell the king that his plan worked?” 

“Yes.”  Bryce frowned.  “What did you tell Queen Anora?”

“We talked this morning.  She knows I planned on accepting him.  It won’t be a surprise.  She won’t be angry with Cailan either.  It’s too late to change anything.”

“Good.  It seems you’ve developed some diplomatic skills.”

“You’re just noticing? Honestly, Bryce.”  Eleanor rolled her eyes.  “I’m glad you convinced Anora not to be angry.  She can’t be happy to lose both you and Pippa to Orlais.”

“She wasn’t.  I imagine she’ll let Cailan know, but there will be no argument.”

“Lys, it will work out,” her father said.

His daughter shrugged, “It must.”

**9:29 Dragon  Satinalia  ===  Castle Cousland**

Early in the day, on Satinalia, the smaller company staying at Castle Cousland gathered to exchange Satinalia gifts.  Princess Elin, too young to fully comprehend the traditions, nevertheless enjoyed the attention from the grownups and the carved wooden toys and cloth doll.  Five-year-old Oren, fully attuned to gift giving and receiving, acted as messenger delivering each gift to its recipient.  Lord Rievaulx gave fine jeweled gloves to all the ladies, not just Teyrna Eleanor.  To Queen Anora and the Teyrna he also gave Orlesian bows.

“I understand you’re both archers,” he said.  “Noble women in Orlais often compete with each other in archery contests with bows of this type.  They’re quite effective at short range.”  Both Queen Anora and Teyrna Eleanor admired the finely carved ash bows.  For Lys, he had an emerald and pearl pendant of the Cousland wreath surrounding the jade teardrop of Highever.  To the company’s amusement Lys seemed speechless.  She simply looked at Denis and whispered, _thank you._   As he had feared, Lys’ gifts to Lord Denis, the Moira and Calenhad figurines, drew chuckles and gibes which he took with good-natured laughter.  Lys surprised him with a third gift, however, a beautifully carved Ferelden lute. 

“It’s magnificent Lady Melysande.  It’s the one we saw in the market, isn’t it, but cleaned and repaired.”  He inspected the faces of sprites, animals, humans and elves peering out from the vines twisting around the lute’s frame. 

Lys, sitting near the queen, smiled almost shyly.  “You admired it in the market and you’ve a gift for music, Lord Denis.  I thought it might be a more gentle reminder of your stay here.”

“I’ll need more lessons.”

“Well, that can be arranged, My Lord.”

The morning passed quickly.  Loghain, talked quietly with Delilah, but seemed less dour than usual.  Even Arl Howe did not dampen the enjoyment with any crass remarks. 

The mood changed later in the day when the guests at Castle Cousland welcomed the larger company for dinner in the Great Hall.  Many of the Teyrnir’s banns, as well as Higheverport’s leading merchants, attended the grand dinner.  King Cailan insisted on announcing the betrothal of Lady Melysande and Lord Denis at the beginning of the traditional feast.  The nobles and merchants accepted the news well, despite the Orlesian ties.  They had become accustomed to Orlesians in their midst with the establishment of the trading compound.  Lord Denis appeared truly happy with his good fortune as he toasted his future wife.  Lady Melysande smile appeared, if not forced, than slightly wistful, which surprised those who did not know her well.  After all, this was the adventurous young woman who enthusiastically traveled the known world, spending months away from Ferelden.  Marrying a handsome young man like Lord de Rievaulx, the heir to a dukedom, seemed like more good fortune, even if he was Orlesian.  It’s not as if her children would rule in Highever.  Lord Fergus and Lady Oriana would follow the Teyrn and Teyrna one day in the far distant future.

Not to be outdone, Arl Howe followed with the announcement of Lady Delilah’s betrothal to Teyrn Loghain.  That surprised the company, but made sense and pleased them even more.  After all, Gwaren needed an heir.

A young bann and the wife of a city merchant found the black and white beans in the huge Satinalia cake.  They took their places as the Satinalia  king and queen and ruled over the dancing and games which followed the dinner.  Since the higher nobility, by tradition, acquiesced to the rule of the Satinalia couple, few noticed the subdued behavior of the Couslands and their Queen. 

**9:29 Dragon  Firstfall  ===  Highever**

The Howes and Teyrn Loghain did not remain after Satinalia to celebrate the betrothal of Loghain and Delilah in the Higheverport Chantry.  As Bryce had told Lys, Howe wanted Delilah’s betrothal service in the Amaranthine Chantry before his own vassals.  No one questioned that desire, only his abrupt departure on 1 Firstfall.  Eleanor Cousland thought he could have remained for the double service for Pippa and Lys in Higheverport, but, on reflection, she decided his brooding presence would only dampen the mood.  Lys would miss Teyrn Loghain though.  Eleanor knew she wanted Loghain’s acquiescence, if not his blessing.

Anora had argued with her father about his early departure. 

“Surely, you can remain while Howe makes the arrangements.  You must know Lys wants you here.”

Loghain rubbed his temples. 

“Have your headaches returned?”

“So it appears.  Must be the weather.  A storm is coming in.”

“Well, father, can you stay?”

“No.  No, I don’t agree with these marriages. Philippa’s I might accept, but Lys in Orlais…no.”  He held up his hand.  “Don’t say it Anora.  A marriage between Lys and me is not possible.  Cailan’s obsession with Orlais, however, and Bryce’s support of it is disturbing.  It’s a topic on which Howe and I agree.  We will both leave.”

Anora sighed.  “Father-“

“-be happy I’m accepting the betrothal to Delilah.”

“I am, Father.  I would like to be at Delilah’s betrothal too.”

“I’ll make sure you and Cailan can attend if you leave here soon after the services in Higheverport.”

“Fine.  Eleanor tells me the services will be on the second day of Firstfall.  We can leave on the fourth.”

“I’ll insist Howe wait until the fifteenth.  You should arrive by then.”

**29 Dragon  2 Firstfall  ===  On the North Road**

Loghain traveled with five of his Gwaren guard.  The six of them set up their own camp separate from, but near the much larger Howe camp.  _Why he needs to travel with a two score Vigil’s Shield troops is beyond me.  The North Road is safe enough.  Cailan only travels with twenty Maric’s Shield soldiers.  Well, Cailan does send another score out to scout ahead._

Loghain had found the ride pleasant enough.  Delilah had accompanied him for most of the day.  He found her surprisingly good company.  But, then, he remembered her brother Nathaniel being good company as well.  Howe kept a good pace.  They would arrive at Vigil’s Keep in a week and remain there until the royal party arrived.  They would all travel to Amaranthine for the betrothal at the Chantry there.  

Loghain joined Howe at his fire for the evening meal.  The two men sat talking after Delilah retired. 

“You seemed to tolerate the Orlesians,” Howe sneered.

“I did.  I don’t object to the Broughten girl’s marriage, but Lys Cousland should not be marrying in Orlais.”

“No, she should not, but Bryce wanted this.  Bryce has too much influence over Cailan.  He contrived this to benefit Highever, not Ferelden.  Eamon may have lost influence, but now Bryce manipulates the boy.”

Loghain frowned.  “I’m not sure I agree, Rendon.  I’m glad to see Eamon’s influence lessen, but I think Cailan may have come up with this on his own.”

“Your own daughter disagrees with it.”

“How do you…did Delilah tell you that?”

“Not in so many words, no.  She’s discreet with the queen’s business.”  _Let him think so anyway._

“Anora’s resigned herself to the match.  Her opposition would create divisions in the nobility, prove futile in the end if Cailan wants these alliances.”

“She should have spoken up sooner.”

“She didn’t know or she would have,” Loghain snapped.  “Cailan kept these plans to himself.  I wouldn’t have known had you not mentioned it.”

“So, your good friend Bryce did not tell you?”

“No,” Loghain muttered.  “Bryce wants to remain at Court now that Cailan’s welcomed him back. He’s always been too interested in foreign trade and diplomatic relations.  He and Maric thought they would bring peace, but Bryce would not betray Ferelden to the Orlesians.  That’s not the peace he wants.  He fought with us, Rendon.”

“Are you so sure of that?  It’s been thirty years.  Some forget the hardships we suffered.”  _And you will come to agree with me now that Nicephorus has begun his spell casting again._

Loghain stood, took his leave and headed back to his tent.  Midway through the night, his soldiers all slept.  Howe had suggested his troops stand watch that night and Loghain had accepted.  No one noticed Howe’s notary slip behind Loghain’s tent.  Magister Nicephorus cast his spell.  The spell would cause Howe’s doubts to fester and grow in Loghain’s mind.  The magister would have unfettered access to Loghain for several weeks.  By the time they returned to Denerim, any good feelings he felt towards the Orlesians or the Couslands would disappear.

**29 Dragon  1 Firstfall  ===  Highever**

Revered Mother Berenice performed the betrothal ceremony in Highever.  The two couples stood in the narthex of the Higheverport Chantry.  The townsfolk watched from the square, while the nobles stood on the porch.  The couples declared their intent to wed and exchanged rings.  The service formalized the agreements between the Fereldan and Orlesian families. Dowries had already been placed with banking houses to be held until the actual weddings.

Since the ceremony followed so closely upon the Satinalia Festday, Eleanor kept the dinner after the betrothal service a light meal with only the nobility invited.  Music and dancing followed the dinner at Castle Cousland.  Eleanor had arranged for entertainment, food and drink in the city square for the rest of the populace. The winter weather precluded a fête on the lawn at Castle Cousland.   

Happy to finally celebrate their betrothal, Guy and Pippa danced and enjoyed themselves.  Denis and Lys were more subdued. After sitting with Denis during the dinner, Lys sat with Queen Anora and chatted, occasionally getting up to dance with Denis, Fergus and her father.   Finally, she disappeared.

“She’s probably on the roof of the northwest tower.”  Fergus placed a hand on Denis shoulder and spoke quietly.

“What?”

“When she wants to think, she goes to the tower roof.  Any tower roof.  She’ll find one in Lydes too.  I thought you should know.”

“I…see.”

“She’ll come to accept this, Denis.”  Fergus patted his shoulder smiling.

Denis didn’t smile.  “I’d hoped it would be more than… accepting her sentence.  I’ve grown fond of your sister, Fergus.”

Fergus’ smile faded.  “It’s difficult for her.  She’s used to a lot of freedom.  Going where she chooses, when she chooses.  She enjoys working with House Haris.”

“But that won’t change, Fergus.  She’s brilliant.  I want her to help me build up our businesses.  Do what your parents and the Arl and Arlessa have done here.”

“Have you told her that?”

“Yes!”  He shook his head.  “We visited House Haris here and the guilds.  I think she won’t believe it until we get to Lydes and she experiences it.”

“You may be right.  For now, go to her.  Take honey cakes.”

“She won’t get angry?  The honey cake debacle…”

Fergus grinned.  “She told you about that?  Well, that’s something.  Take wine too.”  He started to walk away.

“Fergus,” Denis said.

Fergus turned around. 

“Thank you.  It means a lot that you trust me with her.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

 Lys saw the door open and cringed.  A figure come out carrying a bundle.

“Lys.”

“Denis?  How did you…Fergus or Mum?”

He walked across to her.  “Fergus.  I brought offerings.  A cloak, blankets, wine and honey cakes.  May I sit with you for a while?  I won’t stay if you don’t want me here.”

Lys smiled in spite of herself.

“Well, since you have honey cakes.”

Denis spread a blanket on the stones paving the flat roof.  Lys already wore her cloak, but he wrapped the second one around her.  They sat down, leaning against the wall.

 _I can’t think of other times.  I will marry this man.   I need to adjust._ She accepted a glass of hypocras.  _At least it’s not cider and cheese._ She twisted the silver ring she still wore.

“Is it a family custom, your ring and pendant?”  Denis asked.  “Something all daughters wear?”

Lys struggled for an answer.  “No.  They were a gift when I was a child.  Unique to me as far as I know.  I should put them away, really, now that I have your ring.  I can’t believe you had a laurel pendant made for me too.  It’s brilliant, just like the gloves you gave mother.  You select magnificent gifts, Denis.”

“Well, you can’t wear the emerald pendant every day.  The silver could be your daily necklace.”

“Yes, it could, if you don’t mind.”

“Why would I mind, Lys?”

“No reason.”

“Who gave them to you.  I’m guessing it was the same person as the ring.”

“A friend.  A childhood friend.  Someone I haven’t seen in many years.”

“An important friend if you still wear the gifts.”

“Or, I like laurel jewelry.”  She linked her arm through his and leaned against his shoulder.  “Emerald laurel jewelry is quite nice too.”

Denis laughed.  “I think you just attempted a diversion.”

“Attempted?”

He brushed some stray hair out of her face and let his fingers slip down her cheek and under her chin.  “I saw it for what it was…so yes, attempted.

Lys looked up at him and sighed.

“Just a boy I knew.  We were good friends for a while as children.  Then he went to the Chantry.  The last time I saw him we were ten.”  _Well the last time we spoke._   “He wasn’t anyone important.  Just a boy.”

“And yet you still wear his favors.”

“Gifts.  Our friendship ended abruptly.  We wrote for a while, but we grew up and apart.  We probably wouldn’t be friends now.”  She grinned at him.  “I do like laurel jewelry.  It’s a sentimental habit.  I will put them away.”

“No.  I just wondered.  Do as you wish.” 

They sat quietly staring at the stars.  Satina, full and riding high in the sky, lit the roof so they could easily see each others faces.

“Was it a mistake?  To copy the silver ring?”

Lys sat up and turned to face him.  “No.  It’s lovely.  I appreciated that you noticed a simple silver ring.  I’m trying very hard not to like you and failing miserably.”

Grinning he put a finger under her chin and leaned down.  “Perhaps you should stop trying so hard.” 

His lips grazed hers.  Her hand reached around his neck as he pulled her closer.   Their kiss deepened until they broke it off, breathless.

“Much better than the peck on the cheek at the Chantry,” Denis whispered.

“Less public.”

“My Lady is shy?”

“Of kissing in front of scores of people, yes.”

Denis chuckled.  “Well, it’s quite private here.  Perhaps we should practice?”

“I enjoy practice, My Lord.”  _Why not.  We enjoy each other.  He’ll be my husband.  I can prevent a child._

“Good.  We have blankets, honey cakes and each other.”

“Until we freeze.”

“We’ll have to keep each other warm.”  He pulled her legs over his and wrapped the cloaks around them, pulling her closer.  She shivered as his thumbs grazed the sides of her breasts through her gown.  His lips trailed kisses down her neck.  Her hands released the ribbon holding his queue and twined through the loosened brown hair.  His thumbs continued to massage softly as he captured her lips in another kiss.  Lys moaned softly as his one hand moved to cradle her breast and pinch the nipple.

“Too much?” Denis murmured. He pulled back and looked at her. 

Flushed, she gazed back puzzled.

“I don’t want to rush you.”

She smiled.  “I’m not feeling rushed.”  _At least not in this._  

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lords Denis and Guy took ship for Val Royeaux a few days after the betrothal ceremony.  The royal party had already gone ahead to Amaranthine for the betrothal service there.  Lys and Pippa returned directly to Denerim the day after Guy and Denis sailed.   They would meet the royal family back at the palace. 

Within two weeks life resumed its normal pace.  At times Lys wondered if it had all been a dream or, perhaps, a nightmare.  The emerald laurel band reminded her that a wedding loomed.  She often pressed her hand to her chest.  On a long chain she still wore the silver laurel branch and Alistair’s ring.  She promised herself she would put them away just before the wedding.  On a separate chain she wore Alistair’s locket.  His belongings remained in a chest at House Haris.  One day she would see that Fergus returned the chest and locket, but not today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. I hope you continue to read and enjoy. If you have time, reviews, short or long, are always welcome!
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eyes. Her astute comments improve every post. Any errors are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. I do love reviews and welcome comments, encouragement, suggestions and critiques. Special thanks to those who reviewed or commented: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, caraine, Eastern Violet, ElyssaCousland and SnowHelm. You inspire me and make me think. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback.


	61. Chapter 61

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:29 Dragon Harvestmere and Firstfall in Orzammar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world. I sometimes incorporate game dialogue, although not usually in its original context. Either way, that dialogue belongs to Bioware. 
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

 **Chapter 61** **– **BRANDS AND KINSLAYERS****

* * *

  **9:29 Dragon  1 Harvestmere  ===  Grey Warden Camp at Ostagar**

“Duncan, we’ll travel through South Reach on our way to Denerim.  Would it make more sense to recruit in South Reach and Dragon’s Peak on our way to Denerim?  Save back tracking later.  What about Southron Hills?  And Bann Ceorlic’s Southern Bannorn?  Or have you already exhausted their candidates?”  Alistair stood in front of Duncan’s camp desk. 

Duncan raised both eyebrows. 

Alistair shifted.  _Did I overstep?_

“I wondered if you would offer an alternate route.  I hoped you would.”  He smiled at the relief showing on Alistair’s face.  “I have exhausted Lothering and the Southron Hills.  They’re both lightly populated and offer no more prospects.  The same is true for South Reach and Dragon’s Peak.  Gwaren is too distant and…unfriendly.  I have no wish to annoy Teyrn Loghain any further at the moment. No, we’ll head to Lothering to pick up supplies and then go west to Redcliffe.”

“Redcliffe?”  Alistair shifted uneasily.  “Will we see the Arl?”

“I might.  You won’t need to.  We’ll stay in the town at the inn.  You can arrange for passage across Lake Calenhad to Rainesfere.  Redcliffe is the nearest port on the lake.”

Relief washed across Alistair’s face.  “Oh, well then, I can do that.  Boat to Rainesfere. No problem.”

 “Alistair, do you mind seeing Bann Teagan?”

“He doesn’t stand up to the Arl, but he never mistreated me.  He was kind at times, truth be told.  I don’t mind seeing him.  Will we meet him in Rainesfere?”

“Possibly.  He might allow us to borrow horses which would speed our travels.  We can return them to the Arl’s stables in Denerim.”  Duncan looked at the map Alistair had laid out on the camp desk.  “We’ll be heading to Orzammar.”

“Orzammar!”  Alistair could not restrain his grin.  “Really?  Wow.  That will be an experience.  Will we go into the Deep Roads?”

“Maybe.  Depends on what we find there.  I’ve heard disturbing rumors about discord among the king’s children.  We’ll stay at the Warden hostel in the Diamond Quarter.  You’ll get to see the city, at least.”

“I should re-do our route then.”

“Please.  We’ll go from Orzammar to Highever.  I want to visit Highever well before the Teyrn leaves for the Landsmeet.  We’ll skip Kinloch Hold and River Dane.  I’ll stop at the Tower another time.  As for Bann Loren, he has never been forthcoming.  Visiting him will waste our time.”

“Highever?  Will we stay in Higheverport or at Castle Cousland?”

“Probably the castle, Alistair.  Teyrn Cousland has been a friend to the Wardens since King Maric welcomed us back.  Lord Fergus, as you know, is King Cailan’s liaison with us.  Will that be a problem too?  I thought you and Lord Fergus got along?”

“No, Commander, no problem.  I just wondered.  I visited Highever once.  It will be interesting to return.”

“Good.  I don’t want your past to haunt us on this trip.”  Duncan frowned as he spoke.  His tone sounded a bit stern to Alistair.  He held up his hand when Alistair started to speak.  “We’ll stop at Vigil’s Keep and White River on our way from Higheverport to Denerim.  Waking Sea has more sailors than soldiers.  I think I’ve exhausted the possibilities there and in West Hill.  I want to get back to Denerim well before the Little Landsmeet in Guardian.”

“When will we leave?”

“In four days.  Gather supplies for the two of us.  Spend some time with your friends.  I think they returned from their patrol this morning.”

“Yes, Commander.  Thank you, Commander.”  Alistair left Duncan’s tent.  Part of him looked forward to traveling with Duncan.  Perhaps the Warden-Commander would speak more of Grey Warden history and customs.  He suspected there were secrets Duncan had not shared.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Eryhn greeted Alistair without preamble. “So you’re off on a recruiting trip with the Warden Commander?” 

Pery and Eryhn exchanged a look with eyebrows raised.  “Quite the important new warden aren’t we?”  Pery’s grin partially softened the remark.

“I didn’t ask for this duty.  I’d much rather be slogging through the cold with you two.”

“No, you really wouldn’t,” Eryhn drawled.

“She’s right Ali, you do have the better deal.”

“You also have the training for it.” Eryhn added.

“My training’s no different than yours Eryhn.”

“Dragon’s Peak?  Come on.  I never learned how to act with nobles, much less studied with them.”

“I’d still rather be with you on Warden Petyr’s patrol.  I haven’t fought one darkspawn since we got here.”

“Well, we can’t bring a darkspawn into camp to spar with you, but we can give you an approximation.”  Pery picked up his bow and blades.

“How about both of us against you?  Like a genlock and a hurlock at the same time?”  Eryhn banged her sword against her shield.

“Be careful what you wish for.  Cullen used to tell me that all the time, but I never learn.”  He shook his head smiling.  “Fine.  You’re on.”

Alistair fought well, but eventually fell to a joint attack by Eryhn and Pery on the first day.  In their last match, the afternoon before he and Duncan left, he managed to best them both, much to Eryhn’s surprise.

“Sweet Andraste, Alistair, where did you learn that move?”

“Fighting you these past two days.  You’re very predictable, Eryhn.  Not a problem with darkspawn, unless you’re fighting the same one repeatedly.  I look for patterns and you have them.”

“Didn’t think you were that smart,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Did you say I was smart?”

“Smarter than I thought,” she corrected, then grinned.  “So that’s not saying much, Alistair.”

Alistair started to walk over and offer a hand to help her up, but Pery beat him to it.   He had noticed closeness between them these past few days.  A touch here or a smile there, but the look that passed between them now could only be called intimate.

“You two are together?”

They looked up blushing in unison.

“Not exactly,” Pery said.  “We’re friends.”

“Right, but different from us being friends.”

“Well,” Eryhn shifted and smiled, “yes, but it could be awkward you know.”

“Wardens only have each other Eryhn.  Why is it awkward?”

“Not the warden thing, Alistair.”  Pery sounded slightly exasperated.

“Oh, you mean the human-elf thing?”  Alistair grinned.  “I suspect that won’t bother most wardens.”  He sobered.  “It’s not as if you can have children.  So you won’t bring any non-elven babies into the world Pery.”

“You don’t mind?”  Eryhn asked.  “We thought it might make you feel left out.”

“I already feel left out.”  He shook his head.  “Not because of you.  Because I’m stuck here with Duncan.  I assure you, I like you both but as friends.  I’m happy for you. “

Pery and Eryhn looked at each other grinning.  “That was easier than I expected,” Pery said.

“Maker, what am I, an ogre?” Alistair flung his arms up menacingly.

“No, but we both value your friendship and didn’t want to lose it.”

“So you kept secrets.  Good plan,” Alistair groused.

“You’re right.  No secrets now.”  The both walked over to him and wrapped him in a hug. 

“I just thought I was irresistible, you see, and that you would be horribly jealous of Pery.”  Eryhn batted her lashes at Alistair.

He stifled a grin.  “Right.  You enticed me with your warrior skills, defeating me in front of all the nobles in Denerim.  Then insulted me for weeks.  How could I resist?”

“Well,” she grinned, “we did become friends.”

“Yes, we are that and more.  We’re brothers and sister.”  He grinned.  “Umm…well, you’re my sister, not Pery’s.”

Eryhn punched his arm, laughing.

The three friends walked off to clean up for supper with their warden brothers.

**9:29 Dragon  8 Harvestmere  ===  To Lothering and Redcliffe**

A week later, Alistair and Duncan found themselves in Dane’s Refuge having dinner, a bath and a night under the inn’s roof.  Although a major crossroads on the Imperial Highway, Lothering remained a small town surrounded by productive farmland.  Lake Lothering, to the north of town, stretched east toward Lake Calenhad.  Its outlet, the River Lother, fed into Lake Calenhad north of Redcliffe.  Bann Ceorlic’s estate stood near the eastern end of the Lake straddling the West Road between Lothering and Oswin. 

Walking quickly from just after sunrise to just before sunset, Duncan and Alistair made better time than a normal traveler.  They had only been on the road two days and would reach Redcliffe three or four more, they needed no supplies.  Duncan, however, had meetings planned. 

Alistair accompanied Duncan when he went to the Chantry to speak to the commanding templar, Ser Bryant.  Duncan considered the older templar Captain a prospect, but would not anger the Chantry by conscripting him.  One templar conscript would suffice for now.  Since neither templar wanted to join the Wardens, Revered Mother Millicent declined Duncan’s request to recruit the Templar Captain or his second, Ser Maron.

Leaving the Revered Mother’s study, Duncan said he had business to complete, but did not require Alistair’s assistance.  He told Alistair he was free to explore the town until None bells, when they should meet at the inn for dinner.  

On his way out of the Revered Mother’s apartment, Alistair noticed a small library on the other side of the altar.  He wandered over to explore its contents.  He had not planned on observing Duncan, but through a gap between the bookcases he could see him meeting with a striking young woman, dressed in the garb of a lay sister and an older Revered Mother.  The younger sister appeared to argue with Duncan, while the Revered Mother attempted to calm her.  He could only catch a few of the younger sister’s words, spoken in a strong Orlesian accent.

“…she wants him in Orlais!”

Duncan’s words came across more clearly.  “Sister, it makes no sense.  He can best serve here against the Blight I know is coming.”

“…calm yourself…if what Duncan says….he can serve no purpose…there can be no…,” the Revered Mother admonished.

“Of course….a child…act now.”  The red head frowned at the Revered Mother.  “You wanted this!  …mission.”

“Before, yes…a Grey Warden now.  Can’t produce….”  The Revered Mother put her hand on the younger woman’s arm.  “He stays.”

The Revered Mother looked around and Alistair stepped away from the space between the bookcases.  _I better leave before Duncan finds me here._   He left the Chantry and wandered over to the open fields near the remains of the Imperial Highway.  Climbing the ramp, he walked across the highway to look out over the rich farmland.  Windmills spotted the hillsides near the farmholds.  _It’s so beautiful.  It’s hard to believe a Blight threatens._

He leaned on the wall edging the highway.  _I wonder who or what can serve no purpose._ _And what was the purpose supposed to be._ _It sounds like they were speaking of a Fereldan warden, but they were both Orlesian.  What could they be doing here?_  He shrugged.  _Not my affair._   He strode down the ramp and returned to Lothering.  He met Duncan at the bridge arching over the small stream that ran through town and into Lake Lothering. 

“Alistair,” Duncan greeted him.  “Let’s return to Dane’s Refuge and gather our things.  We can leave now and put miles behind us before nightfall.”  Duncan squeezed Alistair’s shoulder.  “I know, you would welcome another night in a bed, but we’ll have another chance for a roof over our heads in Redcliffe and on the boat to Rainesfere.”

The two men shouldered their packs and headed west on the Imperial Highway.  The last time Alistair had traveled this section had been with Loghain ten years before.  He remembered his anger easing after Lothering.  _I was such a trusting fool.  No more._

“Duncan, I couldn’t help see the Revered Mother who met with you.  Was she Orlesian?”

“You saw us?”

“I was looking at the library.  There was a gap between the bookcases.  It was unintentional.”

“Of course, I forget the draw a book has for you.”  Duncan chuckled.  “Yes, the woman you saw is a Revered Mother from Orlais.  I knew her in Jader.  The young sister is her protégé.  Revered Mother Dorothea will return to Jader soon.  I gave her an update on the Blight and some messages for the Warden Commander in Montsimmard.”

“Oh.  That’s lucky.”

“Oh, I knew she was there, Alistair.  She was the other reason If stopped in Lothering.  We must use whatever resources we can find as wardens.  We don’t have the luxury of messengers, like the King’s troops.”

_I suppose Duncan has his secrets too.  Why does he always meet with Orlesians.  Warden Riordan and now this Revered Mother._

The early departure from Lothering, followed by four more long days of walking brought Alistair and Duncan to Redcliffe in mid-afternoon.  They made their way to the inn.

“Lloyd, still here I see,” Duncan greeted the innkeeper. 

“Warden.  Taking a boat tomorrow?”

“No, we’ll need two rooms for a few nights.  I need to go up to the castle.  My adjutant will arrange for the Rainesfere boat and any supplies we need.”

Lloyd’s eyes narrowed as he seized up Alistair.  “You look familiar, Warden, but I don’t remember you coming with Warden Duncan.”

“No, inn keep, it’s my first time here.”  He smiled.  “I must have one of those common faces.”

Lloyd shrugged.  “Not my concern, as long as you pay.  Bella,” he shouted.  “Customers.”

A pretty, young woman came out of the rear room.  “Warden Commander, welcome back to Redcliffe.   I’ll take you to your rooms, shall I?  We’re empty at the moment, so you’ll have your choice,” she added as they climbed the stairs.  If you want, the rooms at the end of the hall have a small common area and two small, but private bed rooms.  As you know, Warden Duncan, the bathhouse is in the back.”

“Thank you, Bella.”  Duncan and Alistair dropped their packs on the beds in the very small bunk rooms.  “You can make sure our plans are still good, Alistair.  I want to keep track of the dates to make sure we don’t miss the Teyrn in Highever and the King before the Landsmeet.  Tracking time in Orzammar will be difficult.  We need to be very accurate up to then.”

“Yes, Warden Commander.  I’ll check the boat schedule tomorrow.  Do we want to leave in two days?”

“If we can.  Unless Bann Teagan is here, I want to visit him in Rainesfere and try to get mounts.”

“Right.”

“You do ride?”  Duncan asked.

“I do.  Quite well actually, or I did.  I’m sure it will come back.” Alistair grinned.  “I’m not…Ki” he looked around,  “my father, Warden Commander.  I’ve heard the stories.”

Duncan laughed.  “Good.  You had me worried for a moment.”

Duncan’s business at Castle Redcliffe took only a day.  Once Alistair had arranged for passage on a cog heading for Rainesfere, he had time to wander around the town.  Although he noticed several townsfolk staring after him, no one approached him or called out his name until late in the afternoon.

“Alistair?  Is that you?”

He turned to find one of Arl Eamon’s knights approaching.  “Ser Donal?”

“Yes.  You’re a Grey Warden now, I heard.  Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Ser Donal.  Yes, only recently.”

“Adjutant to the Warden Commander, if you’re the companion he spoke of at the castle.”

 _So Duncan didn’t mention me by name._   “Yes, Ser.”

“That’s good.  I’m glad you found a place.”  He frowned.  “I only hope these darkspawn rumors turn out to be just that, rumors.”

Alistair bit his cheek.  “I do too, Ser Donal.  Maric’s Shield and the wardens do everything they can to bottle them up at Ostagar.”

Ser Donal patted Alistair on the shoulder.  “You look fine, my boy.  I’m sure you’ll do well in the order.”

_Well, if Ser Donal is the only Redcliffer to recognize me that will be fine.  Once we get past Bann Teagan, I’ll be a stranger to all until we reach Highever._

**9:29 Dragon   Harvestmere  ===  To Orzammar**

The Rainesfere horses, two for riding, two spare and a pack horse, sped the trip to Orzammar, even though they had to walk the animals the last day when a snow storm blew in from the northwest.  After an overnight sail across Lake Calenhad, they spent a day in Rainesfere talking with Bann Teagan and selecting their mounts.  Two days later, they began the steepest part of the climb towards Gherlen’s Pass.  The snow seemed to fall sideways in the strong wind much to Alistair’s surprise.  He had not encountered such a fierce storm before, even at Dragon’s Peak.  Dismounting, they walked the horses for the rest of the day.  They passed below the border castle made famous by the night elves attack during the Rebellion, but could not see the battlements in the storm.  They turned off to the find the entrance to Orzammar before crossing the border into Orlais.

Duncan and Alistair arrived at Orzammar on 24 Harvestmere.  They left their mounts in a stable an enterprising surface dwarf ran just outside the Orzammar entrance.  Shouldering their packs, they walked through the market, quiet in the blowing snow, and climbed to the entrance of the underground kingdom of the dwarva.

“Warden Commander, welcome to Orzammar,” the guard at the gate greeted them.  “Your fellow warden, Riordan, arrived a few days ago.  You’ll find him at your hostel or at Tapsters.”  The guard grinned.  “He can down lichen beer better than most humans.”

Alistair and Duncan entered the great hall. 

“Maker’s Breath.  These statues…they’re incredible.”  Alistair stood still and looked around him, amazed.  He slowly walked down the aisle.  “Paragons?”

“Yes, all the dwarven paragons have a statue here.”  Duncan pointed to each and named it ending with Branka, the most recent paragon.

“They don’t believe in the Maker or a Creator do they?”

“No.  They simply believe they go back to the stone when they die.”

“Incredible.  I’ve heard of Orzammar, but to be here.”  A smile crept across his face as he looked around.  “It’s like living history.  Or being inside a story.”

“I’m almost afraid to mention it,” Duncan chuckled, “but you might want to visit the Shaperate while you’re here.  It’s the repository of all dwarven knowledge and memories.  They record everything.  Our visit is probably already being recorded.  Don’t be surprised if they know who you are.”

“Seriously?”  Alistair frowned.  “So they know all about previous Blights and how to fight darkspawn?”

“It’s recorded.  That doesn’t mean everyone reads the histories, Alistair, or learns from them.  Dwarves repeat their mistakes just like any other race.”

“You don’t mind if I visit, as long as I get my tasks done?”

“No.  You should learn as much as you can.  You can wander the city or visit the Shaperate while I’m meeting with Riordan.  Learn all you can.  Our relations with the dwarves are important.  They respect wardens, unlike many of the surface folk.”  Duncan gave him a sidelong glance as they entered the Diamond Quarter.  “Just be careful with the beer and ale.  It’s stronger than anything you’ll find on the surface.  I don’t need you wandering around drunk.”

“I’ll watch it, Warden Duncan.”

“I mean it, Alistair.  And don’t go into Dust town or try to get into the Deep Roads.  Stay in the Diamond Quarter and Commons or visit the Provings.”

“Provings?  Those are the duels?”

“In a sense.  You might want to read up on them in Shaperate before you go.”

The two men passed through the entrance to the Diamond Quarter, housing the dwarven nobility.  They entered the Warden Hostel, just inside the Quarter, where the dwarven servants took them to separate rooms.  They passed Riordan and two other wardens, Orlesians Alistair assumed, as they passed through the common room.  Duncan told him to unpack, bath in the hot baths down the hall and then join the others in the common room for supper.

 _Maker, the lava must heat all their water._ Alistair sank into the tub carved from soft rock and sealed somehow to make it water tight.   The servant had called the bath a tufa bath.  He said dwarves carved it from a volcanic rock which was light and easily shaped.  Both hot and cool water flowed into the bathing cubicle.He closed his eyes and rested his head against the rim. _I may never leave._

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Alistair rose quite early the next day, donned his light armor for comfort and headed out into the Diamond Quarter.  Duncan had left him no tasks.  The Shaperate, he learned, stood at the far end of the terrace from the Warden Hostel.  Noble houses, the Royal Palace and the Assembly Chambers lined the road to his left.  A few small buildings and public spaces lined the walk on the right ending in a waist high, well probably chest high for his hosts, wall.  From there the terrace overlooked a vast flow of lava below and other Diamond Quarter terraces above and on the far walls of the cavernous space.   Lava provided light and heat.  So far, the rock walls did not seem to close in on him too much.  He had heard of humans feeling horribly claustrophobic here, but fortunately, so far, he was fine.

As he walked past the palace he had to step aside as a dark haired, young dwarven woman strode down the steps followed by another dwarf in armor.   The young woman wore fine armor and carried dual blades.  He noticed the people around him bowing, so followed suit.  As Duncan had said, relations were important and he didn’t want to offend any nobles.

The young woman glanced his way and then stopped.  “You’re a warden, human?”

“Yes, My Lady. I am Warden Alistair, here with Warden Commander Duncan of Ferelden.”

“It’s Your Highness,” the attending knight or whatever he was growled.

“It’s alright, Gorim.  He doesn’t know who I am, do you, human?”

“Well, I do now, Your Highness.  King Endrin’s youngest child, Princess Risa Aeducan?”

“You’re quick and well informed, human.”

“Hoping to be better informed, Your Highness.  I’m going to the Shaperate now.”

Risa’s eyes narrowed.  “Surprising.  Not what I would expect.  Enjoy your day, Warden.  We welcome you here.  Perhaps we will meet again if Warden Duncan meets with my father.”

Alistair bowed his best court bow.  “I look forward to it, Your Highness.”

Risa grinned.  “You’re quite the gallant gentleman for a Fereldan warden.”

“What can I say, Your Highness, I’ve been trained to be courteous.  Becoming a warden doesn’t change that.”

Risa tilted her head and appraised at the tall human.  “ _Tell_ Duncan to bring you when he visits father.  Tell him _I_ said so.”  With that she strode off, Gorim following a few steps behind.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Restless, after spending several hours reading and talking with the Shapers, Alistair set off to wander the Commons.  The dwarven artisans made fine weapons, armor and, surprisingly, jewelry.  It made sense when he thought about it, but it seemed an incongruous combination.  He wished he could afford to upgrade his splintmail, sword and shield, but the prices were beyond the stipend of a warden.  He wandered out to the Proving establishment, but found no contests scheduled.  He found he attracted attention, but as soon as he identified himself as a warden, it became friendly. 

 _Dwarves can be very direct and aggressive and not fond of humans wandering their city.  If I wasn’t a warden, I suspect some of these encounters might turn into a fight_.   

Alistair returned to the Warden Hostel for dinner.  He joined Riordan, Duncan and the two Orlesian wardens at the table.

“I hear you met Princess Aeducan today.”

“I did.  Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no.  She asked for you when I met with the king.  I explained that I had not seen you and did not know she had asked that you accompany me.”

“So, no harm done?”  Alistair asked.

Riordan laughed.  “He makes conquests quickly, Duncan.”

Alistair flushed.  “I didn’t-“

“-no harm done Alistair.  In fact, Her Highness was impressed with your manners.  Did you spend time at the Shaperate?”

“I did,” Alistair replied, glad for the change in subject.  “After a few hours I left and wandered the Commons and Provings.  No matches were scheduled, but it was interesting anyway.”

“Well, you’ll get your chance tomorrow.  There’s a Proving in the afternoon.  You can join us when we attend.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Training and sparring had been Alistair’s life for years, but he had participated in only one tourney, the one in Denerim where Duncan had conscripted him.  That did not prepare him for the ferocity of the Provings.  While not always a fight to the death, the Proving adversaries fought viciously and death could easily result.  King Endrin, Princes Trian and Bhelen and Princess Risa sat in the front row of the Royal Box.  King Endrin muttered in annoyance, as his two sons bickered over small their opinions of the combatants.  Princess Risa watched quietly, trying to ignore Prince Bhelen’s disparaging remarks to her   The wardens sat behind them keeping their thoughts to themselves.

The Proving proceeded with the winner of each duel between two warrior caste moving on to the next match.  After several matches,   Alistair found his attention drifting.  He observed the audience, wildly cheering for their favorites.  He had seen the bets placed before the Proving began and knew a lot of coin would change hands.    

As the Proving progressed, Alistair noticed Duncan making notes on a scrap of parchment.  He leaned over and whispered.  “Have you seen any good candidates?”

“A few possibilities.”  Duncan tilted his head.  “And you?”

Alistair bit his cheek.  “Well, this Everd.  He’s defeated three opponents handily including the Silent Sister.

Duncan gave him a sidelong look and then nodded.  “We’ll visit him after the matches.”

As the current match commenced, with Everd battling another warrior, a dwarf wandered out of the tunnel under the stands and onto the area floor.  The audience howled then a hush fell over the entire arena. 

“That’s Everd,” yelled a combatant the false Everd had defeated.

“If that’s Everd,” muttered Prince Trian, “then who is fighting?”

“Someone clearly more capable than your Everd, Brother,” Prince Bhelen chortled.

The irate Proving Master demanded the dwarf wearing Everd’s armor reveal himself.  To the shock of all, the dwarf who had defeated all comers revealed herself as an auburn haired casteless female.

“Still think she’s more capable, Brother?”  Trian laughed as Bhelen flushed.  “Oh, right, you think casteless should be allowed to rise up.  Did you plant her?” 

“Stop it, both of you!”   King Endrin’s annoyed command ended the discussion as an uproar ensued during which the casteless female disappeared from the Proving Master’s custody.

Taina, for that was the dwarf’s name, and her friend Leske worked for the Carta, the dwarven thief’s guild, which controlled the illicit lyrium trade, betting and all other illegal activity within Orzammar.  The two found themselves in the Carta master, Beraht’s, dungeons.  Again, Taina proved her skills by escaping from her cell, freeing Leske, fighting her way out and eliminating Beraht in the process.  Sadly, she and Leske escaped the Carta’s dungeon, only to be re-arrested by the Proving Master and Guard.  At this juncture, Duncan finally succeeded in recruiting her.  They returned to the Warden Hostel with the understanding that they would leave within a day.  To Alistair’s surprise Duncan informed him they would leave for the Deep Roads the following morning.

“My agreement requires we remove Taina from Orzammar.  Going into the Roads meets that commitment.  I need to meet with Kardol and the Legion of the Dead in the Deep Roads.  Riordan and his wardens need to head back to Orlais.  It won’t hurt for you to have some experience in the Roads or for Taina to experience fighting Darkspawn.”

“Riordan gets back to Orlais through the Deep Roads?”

Duncan nodded, brow furrowed.  “As you probably noticed, Fereldan troops guard the border at Gherlen’s Pass.  They do the same at Sulcher’s Pass and at a smaller crossing point near the coast in the north.  Loghain put troops along the border after Riordan brought the chevaliers with him last year.  The King’s troops question even we wardens now.  Coming in through the Roads and meeting at Orzammar avoids all that.”

Alistair frowned.

“Alistair, I know you feel loyalty to Ferelden, but you must remember that as a warden we do what we must to defeat the Blight.  We don’t maintain allegiances to family, country or race.”

“I…understand, Duncan.  I do.  It’s hard to put into practice sometimes.”

“Keep trying.  It’s important.”  Duncan patted him on the shoulder.  “Now, as the newest Grey Warden, Taina is your responsibility.  See that she is armed, armored and settled.  Remember, you may not divulge any warden secrets until after her Joining.  That includes the details of the Joining.”

“I’ll see to it Warden Commander.  I’ll be careful.” 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Alistair found the young dwarf sitting disconsolately on the bunk she had been assigned.  Her tousled, short auburn hair hid her face.  He had noticed even the dwarven servants barely spoke to her.  When she looked up he saw her brand, a moss green S shaped box on her right cheek paired with a pattern across her forehead.  The brand, given at birth, marked her as casteless.  No dwarf would accept her in Orzammar.

“Did you have a chance to say goodbye to your sister?” 

Taina looked up, green eyes meeting hazel, and nodded.  “I did.  She’ll be safe.  She has a noble protector.”

“Good.  Well, as Duncan told you, I’m Alistair, one of the most junior wardens.  I’ll be your…guide for now.”

“One of?  There are other new wardens?”

“Yes.  There were fo…three of us.  Peryndel, an elf from Denerim and Eryhn, a human templar recruit, like me.  Well…not exactly like me.  She’s a woman.”

Taina almost laughed at his explanation.  “They’re not here though?”

“They’re patrolling in the Korcari Wilds where the darkspawn have appeared in force.”

“Is that far?”

“Yes, several weeks journey to the south.”

“You have the easy duty, then?”

Alistair sighed.  “Not by choice.  I would rather be with the patrols, but I obey my Commander’s orders.”

Taina nodded again.  “Right.  Orders.  Someone’s always giving orders.”

“Look, let’s go have an ale and some bread and cheese.  You can ask me anything you want about the surface, as I’m guessing you’ve never been above ground.”

Taina stood and squared her shoulders.  The skyer seemed pleasant.  _I need to get used to these cloudheads._   “Lead on, Warden, but I may not have many questions now.  I have no idea what the surface is like.  I don’t know enough to ask questions.”

“Well then, perhaps you know a little about the Deep Roads and you can educate me.”

“I can tell you what I’ve heard, but I’ve never been in the Roads themselves, only tunnels leading to them.”

That’s fine.  Good ale and cheese always make a day better, don’t you think?  We can talk about anything you like.  Or not talk at all.”

Taina looked at him warily.  At four foot six, her height was average for a dwarf.  Alistair towered over her at six feet two inches.  _Cloudhead._   She had heard of things called clouds which floated in the space above the ground.  She could not picture it, but anyone as tall as Alistair must find his head among these clouds, so the name would be apt.  “Cheese is good, cloudhead.  Ale is better.”

Alistair grinned.  “Not the order I’d select, but close enough, Taina.”  He held the door for her, to her great surprise, and followed her down the hall.

The next morning they entered the Deep Roads with good wishes from the guards at the entrance.   Taina looked around her as surprised as Alistair by the finely carved columns, the river of lava warming and lighting their way and the broad paved highway that led into the mountain.  The road angled down.  Alistair remembered Duncan telling him that the dwarva built old settlements or thaigs at varying depths under the mountains.  Only Orzammar, the city closest to the surface and at the highest elevation remained.

“As we walk, we’ll be going deeper underground,” he commented to Taina, “but I guess you know that.”

“Don’t assume I know anything, cloudhead.  Dusters don’t get schooling.”  She said it as a fact, evincing no bitterness.  “I can’t read the writing and I don’t know the history.  Dusters aren’t part of the memories.  No one remembers us.”

“That may not be a bad thing.”  He noticed her raised eyebrows.  “Not the no education part, the not remembering part.  Education is good.  I wish I could read the all records in the Shaperate.  I visited, but could only read the records written in Orlesian or the common tongue, which is what we speak in Ferelden.”

“Ferelden doesn’t have its own language?”

“Well, that’s the problem.  It has too many.   They all spoke Alamarri ages ago, but now the Chasind speak one language, the Avvars another and each area of Ferelden speaks its own dialect.  Someone from Gwaren is hard pressed to understand a Coastlander.  Both have problems with folks from the Bannorn, or West Hills or even Amaranthine.  Anyway, using the common tongue proves useful for trade.  The Free Marches have a similar problem with too many languages and they use the common tongue too.  So it’s become the trading language throughout Thedas.”  He grinned.  “Much, it’s said, to the Orlesian’s dismay.”

“So everyone on the surface will speak the common tongue?”

“In Ferelden, definitely.  In Orlais, they do, but many won’t admit it.  Or so I’m told.  Ask Riordan.”

“Ask me what Alistair?”

“If all Orlesians speak the common tongue.”

“Not all.  Most speak a little.  It is necessary for trade, no?”  Riordan turned to the dwarf.  “You have a good command of the common tongue.”

“We dealt with surface dwarves who worked for Beraht.  I learned from them.”

“Fortunate for you, Recruit.  Not many speak dwarvish.”  He was about to continue but, stopped, looking with dismay at the caved in section of road ahead.  “This is new since my last visit.”

“It looks like a tunnel has been dug around it,” Taina said.

“By whom?” wondered Duncan.

“You mean darkspawn dig tunnels?”  Taina asked.

“They definitely do.  That’s how they travel and search for a new old god to taint.  Digging, digging, digging until the new old god is discovered.”  Duncan shuddered as he spoke.  “Let’s take the detour, but stay alert.  We may find creatures other than darkspawn in these tunnels.”

“Deepstalkers.”  Taina said.

“Or spiders,” one of the other wardens added.

“Or treasure hunters.  The Roads harbor all sorts of dangers.”  Riordan said.

The group had gone some distance before the first hisses warned them of deepstalkers ahead.  “Keep clear of their venom,” Riordan shouted, “as he drew his sword.”

They had barely gotten their steel clear of their scabbards when a dozen of the creatures were upon them. 

Duncan, Riordan and the other two wardens formed a line ahead of Alistair and Taina scything through the gaggle of stalkers.  Taina and Alistair took care of the few that made it past the four wardens, learning very quickly to anticipate and dodge when one prepared to spit.  The five wardens and Taina made quick work of the small group of stalkers.

“Small group?”  Alistair asked.

“Yes, only twelve.  Sometimes there are dozens if you’re near a breeding ground.  They are edible, if not tasty.  In a pinch, eating them could save your life as they do not become tainted for some reason.”

“Good to know, I suppose.”  Alistair and Taina exchanged looks.

“I was about to say the same, cloudhead,” Taina grinned.

Alistair grinned back.  _I think that’s the first real smile I’ve seen from her.  Maybe she’s becoming a little more comfortable with us._ “So, cloudhead?  Is that a bad thing?  Or just a nickname?”

“Nickname?”

“An amusing or affectionate name for someone.  Not mean or bad.”

“Amusing.  So a nickname.”

“Meaning I’m tall and from the surface so my head is near the sky and clouds?”

“I…guess.  I’m not really sure what a cloud is.”  She grinned and they both began to laugh.

“So you don’t even know if it’s a bad name.”

“Well, you didn’t object, so I figured it was safe to call you that.”

“Good point, but you could also call me Alistair.”

“I could.”

They continued walking until the detour brought them out to an ancient crossroads.  A large group of dwarves stood at the base of a thick pillar in the center of the road.   Alistair and Taina stood to the side as Riordan and Duncan spoke with the leader of the group.

“I never thought I would meet members of the Legion,” Taina said with some reverence.  “The Legion of the Dead.  They declare themselves dead and go into the Deep Roads to kill darkspawn until they die themselves.”

“Ah, that explains why Duncan and Riordan want to speak with their leader, Kardol.  He must have a good idea of darkspawn movements in the Deep Roads.  He said they never come farther out than this crossroads.  He called it Carridan’s Cross.”

The two groups made camp for the night and went their separate ways in the morning.  Alistair estimated that they had been in the Deep Roads for four days.   A two or, at most, three day walk would bring them back to Aeducan Thaig where they could spend one last night before returning to Orzammar.  Riordan’s path to the other side of the Frostbacks led west from Aeducan Thaig.  Only Duncan, Taina and Alistair would return to the dwarven city after their time in the Roads.

As the group approached the end of the detour, after fighting their way through yet another group of deepstalkers and a few genlocks, Alistair held up a hand to stop them. 

“I saw a movement up ahead,” he whispered.  “It seemed larger than a deepstalker.  It could be a darkspawn, a genlock, but I don’t sense anything.”

“Nor do I,” Duncan said.  “Let’s proceed with caution.”

The group moved slowly and almost passed the young dwarven woman huddling in a dark crevice along the path.  Taina saw her first.

“Wait,” Taina ordered.  She walked over to the dwarf.  “What are you doing here?”

“The young woman looked up.  “Trying to stay alive.”  She wore mismatched armor, but no helmet and carried a fine dagger and a wooden shield

Alistair stared at the dwarf.  “Your Highness?”

Duncan took another look at the young dwarf and sucked in a breath.  Alistair had recognized the princess, Risa Aeducan. 

The dwarf stood.  “You’re the warden I met.  Or rather the person I used to be met in another life.”

“What happened, Your Highness?”

“Not Your Highness.  Just Risa.  I’ve been exiled.”

“To the Deep Roads!   That’s a death sentence,” Taina looked shocked, as she realized who the woman had been.

Risa smiled grimly.  “Well, that would be the point wouldn’t it?”

“I’m sorry, Your…Risa.  I should have recognized you.”  Alistair said.

“Why.  I’m nothing now.  Why would you recognize a woman with no fine armor, no title, no family and no honor?  An accused kinslayer.”

“Come with us, Risa.  We’re setting up camp at the edge of Aeducan Thaig.  You can eat and tell us your story.  We’ll help you if we can.”  Duncan held out a hand to help her stand.

“Why not.”  She sighed, ignoring the helping hand and standing on her own.  “A fire and some food would be nice.  And a few hours sleep before I move on.  Perhaps you can help me escape to the surface?” 

Risa followed the group of wardens.  Alistair gave Taina a look and small nod towards Risa.  Taina frowned, but dropped back to walk with the Aeducan princess.

“You’re the casteless who won in the Provings.”  Risa said.

“I am.” Taina confirmed

Risa’s lips quirked, but she didn’t smile.  “It was quite a show.  I’m glad the wardens took you.  Your sister, her name is Rica isn’t it?”

“Yes.  How do you know that?”

“She has become my brother’s concubine.  My brother Bhelen.  She’s pregnant with his child.”

“By the stone!”  Taina stifled a smile, but grinned inside.  _She did it.  She’s safe._

“If she has a son he might be king one day.”  Risa said all this in a monotone. 

Taina decided not to ask questions, but to just let Risa talk.  She knew Alistair, walking just ahead, listened too, but he also remained silent.  They walked a half mile further without speaking.

“Bhelen…he arranged to have our older brother, Trian, killed and to have me take the blame.”  Risa broke the silence.  “The Assembly condemned me to exile in the Roads.  I was given this sword and the clothes on my back.  No one, _no one_ , defended me or believed my story.”

Risa said nothing more.  They walked for some time before entering  Aeducan Thaig.  After dispatching a dozen deepstalkers, the wardens set up camp.  They found enough fuel for a small fire to heat some water and warm their stew from the night before.  Riordan and his two wardens had several days journey in the Roads to reach the secured exit on the Orlesian side of the border.  Duncan and his group had only a day’s journey to reach Orzammar and the hostel. 

“Not to be impertinent, but I need to ask,” Alistair began, “Riordan, would you bring chevaliers with you through this Deep Roads pathway?”

“No, Alistair.  It’s a very rough passage.  Too small for horses, even if they would brave the underground path.  The chevaliers would never come without their mounts.  Only wardens use the passage.”

“Good.  I know I not supposed to consider such things, but bringing chevaliers into Ferelden seems like a political act to me, just as improper as my worrying about it.”

“Alistair!”  Duncan snapped.

“No, no my friend.  Your young warden has a point.  It’s no secret Orlais wishes to regain her…regain Ferelden.  I can understand that bringing chevaliers is a threat.  Once everyone understands that fighting the Blight is the important matter, help will be welcome I’m sure.”

Alistair frowned.  “Thank you for explaining, Warden Riordan.”

While the wardens talked, Taina sat next to the dark-haired former princess.  _I should hate her, but I feel more sorry for her than anything else.  She’s lost everything, just as I have.  At least Rica and I stood together._ Taina’s brow furrowed. _I just hope her brother values Rica.  I shouldn’t worry.  Rica knows how to play that game.  If she has a son, she’s secure forever._

Taina decided to try to get the former princess talking.  _“_ Have you been to the surface?”

“No.”

“So you know as much as I do about the sky and clouds.”

“Maybe less.”  Risa stared into the fire and kept her face expressionless. 

“You could join the wardens.”

“I could.  Harrowmont told me the wardens were here and I should try to find them.  I got lucky and did.  If Duncan wanted me he would already have asked.  I can fight, but not like you.”

“You could volunteer.”

“No.  Why would he want me?  I’ll accept his help to get to the surface.  I’d go with the Orlesians, but I want to get to Ferelden, not Orlais.  I will probably try to get to Denerim, the Fereldan’s capital.  I’ll find surface dwarves and make my way with them.”  _And find Gorim.  He promised to wait for me there._ She looked at the casteless dwarf next to her.  Why would you care?”

“I know what it’s like to be desperate.”

Risa’s laugh sounded more like a bark.  “I imagine you do.  Bhelen wants to let the casteless work, you know.  I think I agree with him on that, but very little else.”

Alistair and Duncan let the two young dwarves talk.  In spite of their differing backgrounds, the two wardens thought the women could be of more comfort to each other than either of them could be.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The next day, two wardens and two dwarves, all helmeted, emerged from the Deep Roads and went directly to the Warden’s Hostel.  Its location just inside the entrance to the Diamond Quarter proved fortuitous.  No one paid attention to the casteless warden recruit or the former princess.  Inside, the servants ignored the two young women, assuming Duncan had found another recruit in the Deep Roads.  Risa’s dress and deportment belied her former status.  No one recognized the princess. 

Alistair and Taina returned from an errand Duncan had requested.  Taina took several packages to Risa’s room.  The young woman unwrapped them, puzzled.

“Armor?”

“Duncan asked us to get you a full set of leathers and another blade.  If you’re traveling with us, he wants you armed and armored.”

Risa nodded.  “Ah, that makes sense.  I would endanger you all if I wore these poor, mis-matched bits.  She picked up the new boots.  “I don’t suppose walking in feet wrapped in clath would get me very far would it?”  She pulled the boots on over the cloth wrapped around her feet.  “A good fit.”

“Alistair took me along, thinking we were about the same size.”

“All dwarves look alike?”  Risa sounded bitter.

“No.  I don’t think he meant that at all.  He just has no idea how to estimate sizes for us or any women.”  Taina giggled.  “He blushed furiously when I insisted we buy small clothes.”

“Seriously?”  Risa’s raised eyebrow indicated her disbelief.

“He told me he was raised in a place with all men called the chantree.  He’s not used to being around women.”

“He was raised in a religious school?  Where did he learn to fight?”

“I don’t know.  You’ll have to ask him.  He just called it the chantree or dragon’ s peak.”  Taina tilted her head.  “You saw him fight.  He’s good.”

Risa nodded.  “He can fight.”  She looked at the armor.  It was good quality leather.  It might be to the humans benefit to have her well-equipped, but the blade, especially, was better than it needed to be.

Taina saw her examining the blade.  “Alistair thought your second blade should match the quality of your sword.”

Risa looked up, surprised.  _Why?_ She sniffed.  _Probably thinks a poorly equipped companion will reflect badly on the wardens. I wonder if he’ll want it back when I leave?  No doubt, they’ll be glad to get rid of a no name, exiled kinslayer without honor._ She sighed. _I suppose I should thank them._    _They’_ _ll expect gratitude._

Duncan spent one more day in Orzammar, paying a final visit to King Endrin and offering his condolences on the deaths of his children, for all assumed Risa had perished in the Roads.  Alistair stayed at the hostel with the two young women.  The next morning the four companions left Orzammar.  The two young dwarves believed they would never return..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: My adopted ‘canon’ f/Aeducan has been Risa Aeducan from the moment I read the first chapter of Heart of Stone by the lovely KatDancer2 (aka katdancer on AO3). While I won’t presume to include Risa in my story for any extended period, I couldn’t go to Orzammar, recruit Taina Brosca and KNOW I was leaving Risa to die in the Deep Roads. Thanks to Kat for her permission to bring Risa along on an AU adventure and make sure she gets a second chance at life on the surface. She’ll appear in the next chapter, too. Alistair may even explain why Duncan doesn’t offer her a position as a warden, should she even want it. Thanks to kat for letting Risa visit.
> 
> Thank you for reading. I hope you continue to read and enjoy. If you have time, reviews, short or long, are always welcome!
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eyes. Her astute comments improve every post. Any errors are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to all who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. I do love reviews and welcome comments, encouragement, suggestions and critiques. 
> 
> Special thanks to those who reviewed or commented: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, Eastern Violet, ElyssaCousland, mackillian, katdancer and SnowHelm. You inspire me and make me think. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback.


	62. Gains and Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:29 Dragon Winter in Ferelden: traveling from Orzammar to Denerim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world. I sometimes incorporate game dialogue, although not usually in its original context. Either way, that dialogue belongs to Bioware. 
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

 **Chapter 62:** **GAINS AND LOSS**

* * *

  **9:29 Dragon  21 Firstfall  ===  Between Orzammar and Gherlen’s Pass**

Duncan, Alistair, Taina, and Risa all breathed a sigh of relief as they left Orzammar behind.  No one had recognized Risa.  Now the group faced another challenge, as they moved through the market to the stables:  the horses. 

“Duncan, perhaps we should let Taina and Risa get used to the surface for a day or two before we expect them to ride.”

Duncan sighed.  It would slow them down.  “Your idea has merit, Alistair.  I was going to have Taina ride with me and Risa with you, until we can purchase ponies, but perhaps walking will be better today.”

Duncan hurried the group along hoping to reach a camp site he knew of with plentiful wood for fuel, a protected location from storms and a nearby stream.  He and Alistair each led a pair of horses.  The pack horse followed, attached by a lead to one of Duncan’s mounts.  If they made good time and rode the next day, they would be through Gherlen’s Pass and on the Imperial Highway in three days.

Risa maintained her solemn visage, much to Taina’s confusion. 

“Doesn’t all this amaze you?”

“Of course.”

“This is your amazed look?”

“This is how I look all the time.  No need to give away my thoughts or feelings.  Either no one cares or they want to know because it gives them leverage.”

“Shards, you’re a cynical one, Risa.”

“I’m surprised you aren’t as well.”

“I am in my own way.  I’ve learned to take what comes and make the best of it.  Expect nothing and you’ll never be disappointed.”

Risa held Taina’s gaze.  “I should learn to do that.”

Taina shrugged.  “It’s not always easy.  I used to hope for Rica to find a…friend even if I didn’t hope for myself.”

Risa walked silently for a time and then her mouth quirked up slightly.  “It is intimidating isn’t it?  The sky.”

Taina chuckled.  “Dizzying.  And the clouds.  I thought clouds would be just above our heads, not miles away, although Alistair says sometimes the clouds do appear on the ground.”  She ducked involuntarily as several sparrows flew up when the travelers disturbed their feeding.  “And the birds.”

“I think flying might be fun.”  Risa said.

“Do skyers fly?”  Taina spoke quite loudly.

Alistair turned, “I’m told skyers from other worlds do, but not here.”

Both women looked at him, eyes wide.  “Other worlds?”  Risa asked.

“Of course.  Wait until you see the night sky.  It’s full of other suns, moons and worlds, with people and plants and animals and flying machines.”

“You’re joking,” Taina accused.  “You have to watch him, Risa, he jokes a lot.”  She frowned.  “What are moons?”

“Maybe I am and maybe I’m not.  We can’t go to other worlds so we’ll never know will we?” He grinned.  “You’ll see moons tonight, Taina.”

Risa snorted.  “You’re an idiot.”

“Not the first time I’ve heard that accusation.”  Alistair smirked.  “Ah, but you almost smiled, Risa.  Next time I joke you might even laugh.” He shrugged.  “And you will see moons tonight and stars.”

Taina gave him a smile, but Risa just frowned and dropped into silence.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The groupreached Duncan’s campsite just before darkness fell.  They soon realized its benefits. A cliff face formed a backdrop on two sides shielding them from the wind they had endured all day.  Fortunately the sky remained clear and no snow fell.  A wood pile leaned against one rock wall.  A fire pit already encircled by logs stood ready. 

“Travelers from Gherlen’s Pass welcome this camp after the trek up the mountain.  It’s often necessary to share the site,” Duncan explained.  “This time of year travelers are few, so I hoped it would be empty.  We’ll be undisturbed, comfortable and warm.”

Trees screened the campsite from the road, but a wide expanse of open space surrounded around the fire ring.  Alistair and Duncan quickly set up two shelters, started a fire and put supper on to warm.  While the stew heated up, Alistair took the two dwarves some distance from the light of their fire and pointed up at the darkening sky.

“Shards and stone,” Taina whispered. “what are they?”

“Stars.” 

Taina could almost hear Alistair grin, as he added, “And other worlds.”

Risa sniffed.  “You don’t know that, warden.”

“Actually I do, but I can’t reveal my source.”

Taina giggled.  “You lie, salroka.”  _Shards, I’m beginning to like this skyer._

Risa shrugged.  “What about the big light?’

“That is a moon called Satina.  It’s our second moon.  The other will rise later.”

“Rise? You make it sound like it moves.”  Risa scoffed.

“It does.  Or we do.  You can’t feel it, but the sky moves around us.  You can see the stars move across the sky during the night just like the sun moves across the sky during the day.”

Risa’s eyes narrowed as she recalled the shadows moving from right to left as they headed south.  The sun had moved across the sky.  “I’d say you joke again, but the sun did move today.”

“As do the moon and stars at night.”

Shaking her head Risa headed back to Duncan and the fire.

“She’s having a hard time, Alistair.  She’s lost everything, even her past.  At least my sister and I stood together and I know she’s as safe as a duster can be.”

“Risa will have to adjust, but that can be a hard lesson if you’ve never faced it before.”

Taina looked at his face as he stared after Risa.  He was not smiling.  In fact he looked quite sad. 

He turned back to her and pointed.  “Look, you can see the moon is higher in the sky now.”

“It is!  You weren’t joking.”

“Sometimes I’m serious.”  He replaced his smile with a scowl.  “It scares people when I am, though.”

Taina laughed.

“Not the reaction I wanted.”  Alistair complained.

Taina looked up at the expanse of sky and realized she felt free.  No one waited to threaten her.  Her sister was safe, which meant her mother was too.  The only creatures she was obligated to kill were darkspawn.  She might be making a friend of the tall, dark blond cloudhead.  Even Duncan seemed fair and reasonable.  She had food, armor, arms and tomorrow she would ride a horse.   Taina looked at Alistair again and grinned.  Life on the surface was not so bad afterall.  If only Risa could come to understand that and leave her hurts and regrets behind.

9:29 Dragon   Firstfall  ===  On the Road to Highever

The next day they rode.  Duncan climbed onto his horse and then reached down and pulled Taina up in front of him.  Risa watched warily.  _Not sure I want that_ skyer _to lift me up._   To her surprise, Alistair called her over to mount his horse from atop stone. 

“I’ve shortened the stirrup so you can mount yourself from the stone.  We call it a mounting block and humans use them.  Once you’re settled I’ll lengthen the stirrup and mount behind you.  You can slip your blades into these sheaths on either side first.  I’ve desire to feel the tips of your steel while we ride.”

Risa glanced at him and then at the stone and the horse.  She was slender for a dwarf, more petite than short and stocky.  She had the short legs and long arms, but not the thickened build of most dwarva.  The shorter stirrup still required that she pull up on the saddle with her arms and stretch to swing her leg over the horse’s back, but the method afforded some independence.  She had not looked forward to Alistair lifting her into the saddle in front of him.  She unsheathed her blades from back and placed them in the sheaths on either side of the saddle.

“That should keep you safe.”  She looked down at the warden.  “And thank you.”

He did not smile.  “You did that well.  You’ll need to know how to mount once we get ponies for you and Taina.  Thought you might as well start now.  I also fashioned some…well footrests so your legs won’t just hang.”  He pointed to stirrup like objects hanging from a strap he had placed across the horse’s back just in front of the saddle.  “See if they fit.”

Risa fitted her boots into the makeshift stirrups and nodded as Alistair bent to lengthen the real stirrup. 

“Good.  I wouldn’t try to stand on those, but they’ll be more comfortable than if your legs hung all day.”  He put his own foot in the real stirrup and mounted behind her.  She realized he had made sure her cloak bunched up between them on the saddle.  _He’s really quite considerate and a good instructor. I wonder why he’s taking the time with me?_     _Duncan hasn’t done any instruction with Taina._

Riding had its benefits and disadvantages.  The height gave Risa a different view of the new world.  The speed let them cover many more miles in a day than even long human legs could, but the bouncing and inactivity left Taina and Risa sore in places neither knew existed.  They welcomed the hot bath an inn at Lake Calenhad Docks offered many days later. 

On their second day of riding, Alistair surprised Risa again.

“Here, take the reins.”

“What.”

“Take the reins.  See how I hold them?  Take them the same way.”

“You want me to steer the horse?”

“Not completely.  Part of the ‘steering’ is done by my knees and feet.  You can’t do that from the foot straps I made, but you can learn to use the reins, so take them.”

“You’re quite bossy, at times.”

Alistair grinned.  “Well, I can be.  I’m supposed to guide new wardens, so I’m treating you as if you were a recruit.  Would you prefer I bow and scrape?

“No.  I no one.  Bowing and scraping is no longer required.”

“Good.  I taught initiates when I was in school.  Forms, sparring, riding…all are taught in a similar fashion.  I don’t think Duncan has taught novices recently, if ever.  I’ll help Taina.  You both have to learn to ride the ponies Duncan will buy.”

Risa took the reins.  “Now what?”

“As long as we’re riding on a straight path, just hold them steady and almost taut, but not quite.  When the path turns you want to pull in on the rein in the direction you’re turning.  To turn right pull in on the right rein.  Pull gently for a soft turn.  Pull harder for a sharper turn.”

“The road is straight for as far as  I can see.”

“That’s why it’s a good time to try this,” Alistair chuckled.  “Just keep hold of the reins.  Dropping them would be bad.”

“Do I have to hold my hands up above the saddle?”

“No.  You can rest them on the pommel – that’s the raised piece in front of you.  When you want to turn you should raise your hands above it for more control.  To stop, you pull back on both reins firmly.  Now, first, try stopping.”

Risa pulled back on both reins as she had observed Alistair doing.  The horse slowed then stopped.  She grinned in spite of herself. 

“Good!  Now let Duncan get ahead of us and we’ll try some easy turns.”

Alistair made a clicking noise and she felt him move his legs.  The horse began walking.

“Now, gently, very gently, pull on the right rein.”

Risa hardly pulled at all and got no response.  She pulled a little harder and the horse turned to the right, but straightened out along the right side of the road when she let the reins relax.  She could hear…feel Alistair smile behind her.

“Perfect, Risa.  You’re a natural at this.”

She almost felt good, but the memory of whom she had become flooded back.  _He just wants to get me off his horse and on a pony._

Alistair sighed. “I know you don’t believe me, Risa, but you are good at this.  Adjusting takes time.”

“What do you know about it?”

“I haven’t lost everything all at once as you have, so I can’t understand how you feel.  I never had a family, but I have lost friends.  I have been uprooted and moved, leaving what little I had behind.  I do have a small sense of how you feel.  Enough to empathize I guess.  I’ll do what little I can to help.”

“You don’t have a family?”

“Nope.”

“They died?”

“My mother, when I was born.  I never knew my father or brother.  I’m a bastard.  As it happens, a noble’s bastard, so I had some privilege, but not much and not for long.  Being in the wardens is the best place I’ve been in a long time, maybe ever.  We’re all equal, all brothers and sisters and the cause is just.”

Risa rode quietly after that, but she accepted his instruction politely and did not avoid him as much as she had previously.

At Lake Calenhad Docks, where they arrived after four days of riding, they purchased Coastland Mountain ponies for Risa and Taina to ride.  These were by no means tiny, but at eleven hands, small enough for the dwarves to manage.  By this time the dwarves had gotten used to the motion of the horses.  Risa had managed the reins.  Regardless of their experience, both were fearful of riding on their own.  Duncan took rooms an inn called the Grumpy Goose on the northern edge of town near the North Road.  Three days, he believed, would allow Risa and Taina time to learn enough to ride to Highever.  Alistair took it upon himself to teach them, freeing Duncan to pursue his own tasks uninterrupted. 

The women learned quickly, much to their surprise.  Within a few days both managed their ponies adequately, particularly when Alistair led on his courser.   Both ponies seemed used to riding in company and following another horse’s lead.  On the fourth morning after their arrival at the Docks, the four set out for Highever.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Because of the terrain, the ponies’ slower speed, and the dwarves’ inexperience, the ride to Highever took five days.  The road to Higheverport turned northeast from the North Road, a day’s journey from the Docks.  For two days the road switched back upon itself as it climbed the Coast Range to the Elstan Pass. 

Fortunately the Pass, like Gherlen’s Pass, remained open all winter, but that did not mean an easy passage.  Although its southeast to northwest alignment protected travelers from the prevailing northeast winds off the Waking Sea, the Elstan Pass still received its share of snow.  Local Coastland folk tromped through the pass on snow shoes and wooden planks called skis to beat down a path and keep trade with the south flowing through the winter months.   Caves pocked the cliff face and provided safe haven from storms or darkness.

The four travelers from Orzammar camped just before the pass to ensure they could traverse its three mile length in day light.  Once through, Duncan expected an easier two day ride to Castle Cousland.  He had sent a message from the Docks alerting the Couslands of his planned visit.  He hoped the Teyrn would have time to arrange a small tourney to allow the local knights to show their skills.  He also mentioned that he might have a passenger for the next House Haris ship to Cumberland or Denerim. 

Either Haris compound would be a good destination for Risa, although he preferred Nevarra.  The Couslands could refer her to Cousin Samuel for work at House Haris or to Commander Aleksi for work with Hrothgar’s Wrath.  Either could use her talents he suspected.  Perhaps he could convince the young dwarf to discuss her situation with Teyrna Eleanor.  If anyone could offer the girl good advice, it would be the Teyrna.  He laughed to himself remembering Eleanor Cousland convincing Fiona to come into the castle and let the Cousland healer and midwife care for her.  If she could convince Fiona to do her bidding, helping a stubborn, former dwarven princess ought to be easy.

**9:29 Dragon   2 Haring  ===  Castle Cousland**

Risa and Taina had enjoyed the pass.  Its towering stone cliffs appealed to them far more than the forests and open fields of the Coastlands.  Wanting to divert them from what he assumed was the opposite of claustrophobia, Alistair smiled as he saw a smaller track head north off the main road.

“Let’s take this route, Duncan.”  Before the Warden Commander could object, he headed off into the open fields.

Risa and Taina followed, but glanced about nervously as the scattered trees opened onto expansive, grassy meadows.   At least the forest felt somewhat enclosed. 

Duncan frowned then realized Alistair’s intent.  He followed after Alistair.  They rode at a good pace for a few miles.  As they rode Taina and Risa realized that not all the blue ahead of them was sky.  They had learned about the horizon, the line marking the separation between earth and sky. 

“There’s an horizon line out there, but it looks like it’s separating two skies,” Risa said.

“But the white spots on the lower sky don’t look like clouds.  It looks like the whole sky is moving,” Taina reined her pony in.  “What is that Duncan?”

Alistair stopped and turned his courser.  “Come on ladies, you’ll understand when we’re closer.”

The group rode on until Alistair stopped and dismounted, motioning the women to do the same.  They walked forward to the edge of the earth.  The cliff dropped scores of feet to more earth and what seemed to be water, but not like any water either of the dwarves had ever seen.

“Welcome to the Waking Sea, ladies.”

“The sea!”  Risa seem stunned.  “There’s no land in sight.  Only birds and…is that a boat?” 

A caravel sailed far out towards the horizon. 

“A large boat, called a ship,” Duncan explained.  “If it were up close you would see it could hold scores of sailors.”

“By the Stone!”  Risa looked at Alistair.  “Thank you.  This…it will be hard to forget my first sight of this.  Almost as impressive as the sky that first day.”

“Thank you, _salroka.”_ Taina grinned.  “What she said with her silver tongue.”

Risa glared.

“Hey, I don’t have your education.  You said it good.”

Risa shrugged and looked back out to sea.  “You could lose yourself out there,” she murmured. 

Duncan frowned and Alistair gave her a worried look.

“We should move on,” Alistair said.  “There’s a spot to camp down the coast a ways.  You can get you fill of sea watching from there.    We’ll reach Castle Cousland tomorrow.”

As they rode through the open land along the coast the next day, Castle Cousland appeared on the horizon.  The dwarves saw the castle growing larger as they approached.  While the small town of Lake Calenhad Docks had intrigued them and the farmsteads and small keeps had surprised and amused them, Castle Cousland, built of stone, its towers rising to sky, astounded them.

“So humans do live in stone buildings,” Risa said, trying to maintain her impassivity, as they rode towards the imposing castle.

“It’s huge,” Taina added. 

“And there’s a whole walled city beyond it, mostly built of stone quarried in the mountains we just crossed,” Alistair offered.

“How do you know?” Taina asked.  “More of your reading?”

“No.”  Alistair spoke quietly.  “I’ve been here once before.”

“A bad time?” Risa asked.

“No, no not at all.  One of the best times of my life.”  Alistair looked over at Risa, a sad smile on his face.  “I’m nostalgic, I guess.  It was a very good time.”

“You stayed in this city?”

“No, at Castle Cousland.  I met the Teyrn, the Teyrna and their children.  I was acting as a page for another noble while he visited them.”

“Didn’t work out?” Taina asked.

“Being a page?  Wasn’t meant to be a long term position.  My life changed that autumn when I was sent to Dragon’s Peak school, to the Chantry.  I never saw the Couslands again, until I met Lord Fergus last year.  He’s the son and heir.  A good man.”

“You said children,” Risa noted.

“I did.  They have a daughter.  She’s my age.  We were good friends as children.  I haven’t seen her since.”

“This will be a reunion for you then,” Taina said.

“I don’t think Lady Cousland will be here.  She’s a lady in waiting to the Queen.  She’s probably in Denerim at the palace.”

Risa head jerked up as he said this.  “These are very senior nobles then.”

“Yes, second only to the King and Queen in precedence.  Very important.”

Risa looked at Duncan.  “They let us stay with them?”

“Castle Cousland has a large number of guest quarters Risa, as well as extensive barracks for their guard.  We’ll stay in the castle, but not necessarily be entertained by the Teyrn and Teyrna.  They are good friends of the Grey Wardens, however, so they will treat us well.  There is no compound in Highever unlike Denerim, where the compound is within the palace grounds.  Here we stay at the castle.”

“Cousland,” Rica muttered. “I think a Cousland visited Orzammar with King Maric when I was very young.” She stopped and looked at her companions.  They knew who she used to be.  _I can’t speak of such things, not with strangers._   Her companions waited for her to continue.  _It can’_ _t hurt to speak of it with them._   “The Teyrn and his son?”  She looked at Alistair for an answer since he knew them, but he had a frozen expression on his face.  _What have I said?  He looks offended._

“King Maric did visit Orzammar, Risa, although I don’t remember the dates or whether Teyrn Cousland accompanied him,” Duncan replied.  “It’s possible.  The Teyrn was a close advisor to the king.”

“I remember King Maric.  He sat me on his lap and told me stories.  Then when I said I would be a warrior and waved my wooden swords at, him then knelt down on his knees and sparred with me.  The other man, Teyrn Cousland I guess, just laughed and told me I reminded him of his daughter, that she wanted to be a warrior too.  They didn’t stay long.  I only met them that one day.”  She looked at Alistair again, but he was staring straight ahead.

“Sounds like a good time,” he said not looking at her.  If she had to describe him, she would say he wore a stone face, much as she did.  “I can see Teyrn Cousland saying that about Lys.  She almost beat me a few times.”

“You sparred with her?”

“Yes.  She beat me at the archery range, but never with blades.”  He did smile then, although not with his eyes, and looked at Risa.  “I’m pretty good, Risa.”

“And modest,” Risa shot back.

“I’ll beat you if you want to chance it.”

“Done.  I’m sure the castle has a practice yard we can use.”

Alistair smile finally reached his eyes.  “I know it does.  Tomorrow then.  Taina you can challenge the winner if you want to join us.”

Taina laughed.  “I wouldn’t miss this for anything.  I’ll win too.”

Duncan shook his head.  _Actually it’s a good idea.  It will divert both of them_.  “Just be sure you clear it with the arms master first, Alistair.”

“Will do, Warden Commander.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The tired, chilled troop rode into the Castle Cousland baily as the light faded two days after they exited the Elstan Pass.  Once in the baily, Seneschal Mowry welcomed Duncan and had a servant show him and his companions to their rooms.   Three bed chambers surrounded a common room with fireplace, chairs and a table.  Alistair and Duncan each had a small bed chamber to themselves and the two women shared the larger bedroom.  The rooms looked out over a patch of paved courtyard, a tree in its center, which separated the castle guest quarters from the barracks.  A door led out to the courtyard, giving the group easy access to the stables, practice yards and armory.  If they wished they could eat in the soldiers mess unless invited to dine with the family.  Alistair hoped any invitation to join the Couslands would extend only to Duncan.  He guessed, since there were no other guests in residence, that meals would be taken in the small dining room where he remembered eating all those years ago.  On their first night, the group ate together in their rooms after unpacking and cleaning up.

“Duncan, did you tell the Couslands who I used to be?”

“No, Risa.  I’ve not mentioned it to anyone.  You’re simply Risa, a dwarf, who would like to make a life on the surface for unspecified reasons.”  He hesitated and then took the plunge.  “Risa, Teyrna Cousland is one of the kindest, wisest people I know.  If you wanted to simply talk with someone about what to do next, she’s a good listener.  She also has many contacts in Nevarra with a merchant house and a free company of soldiers.  She could give you letters without revealing or even knowing who you are.  Her letters of introduction would help you.”  Duncan sighed as he saw Risa stiffen while he spoke. “Risa, I will not speak for you.  I’m offering an option.  Take it or leave it as you wish.”

Risa relaxed at Duncan’s last words.  “Thank you, Warden Commander.  I know you mean well.  I’ll give your suggestions some thought after I meet the Teyrna.”

“Good.  I’ll say no more.”  He looked pointedly at Alistair, who shrugged. 

“I agree Duncan, with your description of Teyrn Eleanor.  She always treated me better than I deserved, but it’s Risa choice.  I’ll not try to persuade her.”  He smiled at Risa.

Risa nodded back.  “I think I’ll make it an early night.  I want to make sure I’m fully rested before I beat you tomorrow, Warden Alistair.” 

Alistair smirked.  “I think I’ll do the same, shortly.”  He got up to clear their meal and return the remnants to a tray for the servant to take.

Taina and Duncan remained at the table. 

“Why don’t you offer her a position as a Warden?”  Taina barely spoke above a whisper although the door to the bedroom was closed.

“She does not have all the qualifications, Taina.  Even if she fights better than I expect tomorrow, there are other qualifications.  I won’t offer a position to someone who would likely fail.”  Duncan also spoke quietly.

Taina frowned. 

“I can’t explain it fully now.  Once you take the Joining you’ll better understand.  I’m sorry, that’s all I can say.”  Duncan got up and left the room.

Alistair spoke from the settle.  “Come sit by the fire.”

Taina got up and sat next to the other warden.  “You heard?”

“I heard Duncan’s answer.  I can’t say much more, but I will tell you this.  Risa, unlike you, doesn’t seem to care if she lives or dies right now.  Perhaps, she would even prefer to die.  Becoming a warden is dangerous.  We can’t accept recruits who might welcome death.”

“Why didn’t Duncan tell me that?”

“Because he believes in keeping warden secrets…sometimes I think to a fault.  I’d appreciate it if you don’t let him or Risa know what I said.”

“I won’t.  You’re right, I don’t think she does care.”  Taina looked up at Alistair, “Suicide by darkspawn is frowned upon?”

Alistair chuckled, “Not how I’d put it, but yes.”

“What if she changes?”

“Then Duncan would reconsider…if she can fight.  We’ll find that out tomorrow.  Personally, I’m hoping she talks with the Teyrna.  I would vote for passage to Cumberland, Nevarra and work with the free company, Hrothgar’s Wrath, or House Haris.  No reminders of Orzammar there.  She can start fresh, but I’ll not tell her that. I think Risa needs to figure these things out for herself.”

Taina nodded agreement.  “She’s a stubborn one, even for a dwarf.  And oddly insecure.”

“Her whole family and the assembly just betrayed her.  I think that would destroy anyone’s self-confidence, Taina.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Risa, had not revealed to Duncan, Alistair or Taina that she had been a Commander in Orzammar’s army, although Duncan likely knew.  Her fighting ability surprised them both.  Thought small, she moved quickly, evading Alistair’s shield and sword.  In fact, her sparring reminded him of Lys style of fighting.  Move in for a quick hit on one side or the other, then retreat.  She did not drop and roll as Lys did, but then with her shorter stature, she didn’t have to.  He found himself challenged and the sparring match lasted almost a half turn of the glass before he managed to trip her and point his sword at her chest.

He extended a hand of conciliation to Risa after she yielded.   At first she ignored it, then sighing she took his hand and stood.

“You’re better than I expected, Warden.  Quicker than most warriors.”

“Taller and with a longer reach too.  You had to get used to that and almost beat me in spite of it.”

Risa nodded.  “That’s all true.”

“Given more practice I suspect you’d pummel me.”  Alistair crossed his arms over his chest and bowed to Risa’s surprise.  “Excellent match, my lady.”

Risa stood silently, clearly unsure how to respond, although her face betrayed no emotion.  Finally, she simply nodded to him.  “Thank you, warden.  As you said, a good match.”

Alistair and Taina fought next.  As he expected, Taina used every move and weapon at her disposal.  She flung dirt in his face, tripped him, and kicked, gouged and pinched him.  He had seen her use all these moves in the Deep Roads, but still he found himself unprepared for the ferocity of her attacks.  Even Risa, watching, seemed surprised at the Duster’s skills.  In the end, Alistairs reach, agility and strength allowed him to evade and overpower her, but again, not by much. 

“We’ll have to work on tactics, Taina, to extend your reach.  You won’t only face genlocks.  Duncan wields two swords too.  He’ll be able to provide better training for you than I can.  You might also try some of the tricks Risa uses.  Quickness and agility would help you evade hurlocks blades and shrieks talons.”

“What about ogres?”

“I’ve never met one, but I understand evading them to be the primary tactic.  Having a mage helps or an archer.  Orgres are huge.”

“Do they even exist?” a familiar voice asked. 

“Lord Fergus,” Alistair smiled.  “My Lord, may I introduce Warden Recruit Taina and our friend Risa, both from Orzammar.”

“Warden Taina.  My Lady Risa.  Good to meet dwarven allies.  If this is a Blight, we will need the aid of the dwarves.”

“In answer, yes, Fergus, ogres exist.  They are fewer than genlocks or hurlocks, but they definitely exist.  I just haven’t seen one yet.”

“Nor I.  I hope that’s a good sign.”

Alistair turned to the young women.  “Lord Fergus is King Cailan's liaison to the wardens.  He’s been with the King’s troops at Ostagar and patrolled in the Wilds.”

“So you’ve fought darkspawn, My Lord?” Risa asked.

“I have, though only briefly.  Horrifying experience.  I…admire the dwarves’ resilience in facing them every day.”

“We don’t, you know.  At least not all of us.”  Taina stared at the human noble.

“I do know that, but many do.  Your city could be threatened at any time.  I have been to Orzammar.  I know a little about it.”

Taina sniffed.  “Diamond Quarter, right?  You know nothing My Lord.”

“Taina,” Risa said, “he knows more than most humans.  He’s treating you better than most dwarves would.”

Fergus looked at Taina.  “You’re casteless, right? A…Duster?  That doesn’t matter here.  Particularly here.  We try to value a person on what they do and believe, not who their parents or grandparents were.  We don’t always succeed, but we try.  There’s a surface dwarf settlement in the city.  A fine smith, numerous merchants and a few artisans.  They won’t care about your brand either.”

Taina and Risa exchanged skeptical looks. 

“Maybe you should just stay here Risa.”  Taina said.

“You’re looking for a place to stay?”  Fergus asked.  “You could join our guard, but I’d suggest going on to Cumberland.  House Haris has mines in the Blasted Hills, if you have any familiarity with mining.  They work with the dwarves of Kal Sharok there.  The House's free company patrols out of their base near Nevarra City.  It might suit you and it is far from Orzammar, if that’s what you seek.”

Risa frowned.  “Kal Sharok?  That could be interesting.”

“Talk to my Mum.  She knows more than I do.  She and Da visited there.  She can provide Letters of Introduction to Commander Aleksi of Hrothgar’s Wrath and Samuel Haris.”

“You know nothing about me, Lord Fergus.  Why would you help?”

“You travel with Alistair and Duncan.  That’s recommendation enough.”

**29 Dragon   Haring  ===  Castle Cousland**

Two weeks after the group arrived from Orzammar, the Couslands held a modest tourney.  Duncan had hoped one of the Cousland knights, Ser Glimore, would enter, but he did not.  In lieu of Ser Gilmore, Duncan reluctantly took the winner of the tourney, a knight from Redcliffe married to a young Highever woman.  Ser Jory would prove a thorn in everyone’s side as they left Highever to move south. 

Before they left, Duncan, Alistair and Taina saw Risa off on the Green Dragon, a House Haris ship bound for Cumberland.

“Are you sure you want to go to Nevarra?” Taina had asked her.

“Yes.  It’s a fresh start.  No one knows me there.  I can send to Denerim and let Gorim know where I am.”

“Why so set on Nevarra?”

“You heard what Lord Fergus said.  I may find some work.  I will need to work so I can eat and shelter myself and to maintain my sanity. 

“I spoke with Teyrna Eleanor, as Lord Fergus suggested…well insisted.”  Risa had found the young human noble very persistent.  Duncan and Alistair had sworn they had not revealed her story, but she supposed her manners gave her status away.  “Teyrna Eleanor gave me letters to her cousin in Cumberland.  She also suggests I go north to Nevarra where I can serve with the mercenary company or work for the House.  Their mining sites in the Blasted Hills border the dwarven city of Kal Sharok in the Hunterhorn mountains.  I could be of use there, perhaps.  Gorim as well.  There are wardens there too, should I decide I want to serve with them and they’ll have me.”

“Duncan refused you?”

“I never asked.  If he wanted me he would have offered me a spot.  I won’t embarrass either of us by forcing him to tell me no.  He has his reasons I suppose.”  Risa rubbed her toe in the dirt of the practice yard where they stood talking.  “Why should he want me.  No one else does?”

“Risa, it wasn’t you.  Behlen used you to clear his way.  It happens in the Carta all the time.  Someone’s in your way, you remove them, even if it’s a friend or family.  It’s how we dwarves live in Dust Town or the Diamond Quarter.”

Risa looked up.  “I know what you say is true.  I just don’t feel it.  Even my father let them condemn me with no evidence.  Behlen…I could believe Behlen would betray me, but not my father.”

Taina shook her head.  “I never knew my father.  My mother’s a drunk, but Rica always tried to protect me.  I guess I’d feel the same if she betrayed me.  Lesson: don’t let anyone matter to you.”

Taina and Risa stared at each other. 

“I should try to learn that, I guess,” Risa mumbled.  “Good luck, Taina.  I’m glad I met you, although I wish it was under different circumstances.”

“Risa, under different circumstances we would never have met.”

Risa’s mouth quirked up on one side.  “Right again.  Glad, in spite of the circumstances then.”  Risa shouldered her new pack.  It contained everything she owned, including the letters from the Teyrna.  Teyrna Eleanor and Lady Oriana had also gifted her with a pretty silk dress, not too fancy, but suitable for dinners, shoes, small clothes and some casual tunics, trousers and boots.  

“You won’t always wear armor, Risa.” Teyrna Cousland had said.  “Please, let me have these fitted for you.  Bring Taina, we’ll see she has some clothes as well.”  The Teyrna smiled.  “I don’t know why you both left with so little, nor will I ask, but let us help.  When you can, you will help someone else.”

Risa had almost shed tears.  No one had been that kind to her since Bhelen’s treachery.   She had maintained her composure – her stone face – and simply thanked Teyrna Eleanor.  The Teyrna had no reason to be kind that she could fathom, but perhaps there were good people.  That they were human and not from the dwarva disturbed her.  Her own people found her without honor.  Why would humans not see that too?  She took the clothing, as did Taina.  _I may not deserve this kindness, but I can understand that the clothing will be useful._   _And if I refuse Taina might too and she has a greater need._

Risa stood at the rail of the Green Dragon watching Taina, Duncan and Alistair walked into the city from the quay before she went back to her own small cabin.  She suddenly felt very alone.  She had tried to keep her distance from them, but still, leaving them left a hole.

When she unpacked she found that Lady Oriana had added some scented soaps, a few healing potions and a seasickness remedy made by the Cousland’s healer, Nyla.  _More undeserved kindnesses._ Duncan had warned her that she might get very nauseous once the ship reached the open sea, but he assured her seasickness, as he called it, was normal.  He suggested she go on deck and get as much fresh air as possible.  _I imagine this potion will help as well._   One day she hoped to repay the kindness Taina and the humans had shown to her.

**9:29 - 30 Dragon   Haring and Wintermarch  ===  On the Road to Denerim**

The day after the Green Dragon sailed, Alistair, Taina, Duncan and the new recruit, Ser Jory, left for Denerim.  They had lost Risa and gained Jory.  Alistair and Taina did not think it an even trade.  Jory met them in the Castle Cousland baily after leaving his young, pregnant wife with her mother and father.  His wife’s parents, both fine weavers, lived in Higheverport where they operated a small shop and weaving studio employing several humans and elves.  Duncan had confirmed that Jory’s wife would be well taken care of before he recruited him.  He needed wardens, but did not want them to leave an impoverished family behind.  Jory’s enthusiasm and skills gave Duncan hope he would survive the Joining.  His limited supply of Joining ingredients encouraged him to select only the most promising candidates.

The wardens stopped at Amaranthine, only to be turned away by Varel, Arl Howe’s Seneschal.  He quietly apologized to Duncan, saying the Arl expressly forbade him from allowing wardens to stay at Vigil’s Keep.  Duncan noticed the Howe’s Guard captain, Lowan, observe Varel and then stand on the wall to watch them ride off. 

Two days later they rode into the stable yard at the Warden Compound in Denerim.  Duncan left Alistair to see that Ser Jory and Taina got settled.  Although Jory had difficulty following a younger man, particularly one without a Ser before his name, he grudgingly obeyed after Duncan emphasized Alistair’s seniority in the Wardens.  Taina had no problem following Alistair’s directions or quietly letting Jory know he might suffer in other ways if he continued to whine.  For which ever reason, Alistair found the knight more tractable as he showed the two recruits around the compound on the days following their arrival.

Duncan made arrangements to complete his recruiting circuit.  The Arl of Denerim required a visit.  Duncan regularly visited Arl Kendalls to reconfirm his right to recruit from the Alienage, citizenry and prisons.  It was a formality, but one Duncan did not like to ignore.  Unlike Arl Howe, Arl Kendalls had proven friendly to the wardens.

**9:30 Dragon   11 Wintermarch  === Denerim, White River House**

Duncan’s second visit provided information not recruits.  White River had a small guard and no candidates.  Bann Reginalda, a vassal of Highever, but independent, opinionated and well-informed, provided intelligence instead.  The Bann rarely ventured to her country manor, leaving the managing of her lands to the more than competent Seneschal and Farm managers.  She spent her time in her Denerim estate, conducting salons and accepting visits from the nobility in her comfortable solar. 

A week after their arrival in Denerim, Duncan was the estate’s lone visitor, arriving after dark.  The servant who responded to his knock, expected him and conducted him to the Bann’s presence.  Reginalda sat in a cushioned chair in front of a small fire.  Candles burned on the wall, mantle and a candelabra next to her chair.  Although well into her seventies, her eyesight remained good, but she did require light for her embroidery.

“Warden Commander, welcome back to the city.  It’s said you return with two more recruits.”  Bann Reginalda looked up from her embroidery as she spoke.  She waved to the servant to serve a whiskey to the Warden Commander.  She knew the favored drink of almost every visitor and strove to provide it upon their arrival. 

“Bann Reginalda, good of you to receive me.  Yes, a young dwarven woman and a knight from Redcliffe via Highever.”  Duncan accepted the whiskey.  He knew it would the finest Starkhaven single malt.

Taking off her eye glasses, the bann, stared at Duncan with blue eyes lightened by age.  She wore her white hair gently drawn up into a bun.  Emerald and sapphire earrings hung from her ears, accenting the color of her eyes.  Her plum colored gown, on this still cool Guardian day, had a v-neck and high waist.  A blue and green silk scarf, the color of the emeralds and sapphires in her earrings, wrapped softly around her neck and filled the V of the neckline.  A blue band encircled the high waist.  The skirt flared only slightly and fell to the floor around her feet.  She wore embroidered cloth house shoes which peeked out from under her skirt where they rested on a footstool.

She raised a glass of wine to sip as Duncan sipped his whiskey.  The slit sleeves of her plum gown fell apart as she lifted her arm letting the blue under tunic sleeves show.

“A Redcliffe knight in Highever?”

“He’s married to a Higheverport woman.”  He saw the bann’s eyebrows rise.  “I need recruits, My Lady.  He proved the best Highever had to offer.  The wife’s family will care for her.  She was resisting his wishes to move to Redcliffe preferring that he join the Teyrn’s guard.  The separation might be for the best.  Once the Blight ends, he can establish a small warden compound there perhaps.”

“If he lives.”

“Yes, well, if any of us live.”

“Then you’re quite sure this is a Blight?”

“Quite, My Lady.”

“And what does King Cailan say to that?”

“He was not convinced.  Oh, he is ready to call for a muster and have the army march to Ostagar.  He’s anxious to face the Archdemon if it is a Blight.  He will speak at the Landsmeet next month and send the banns and nobles home to gather their troops and march.  He asked me to attend to answer questions.”

“Cailan did or Anora?”

Duncan smiled.  “King Cailan.”

“It seems the boy has settled down since Princess Elin’s birth.  Perhaps he’s learned a few things from his queen.”  Bann Reginalda stared at the fire for a moment.  “Queen Anora was present?”

“Yes.  Both of them in his study.”

She sighed with relief.  “Good.  Wouldn’t want him to get too independent.  He’s already caused a stir with his Orlesian weddings.  Pity those, but unavoidable.”

“Unavoidable?”

“Yes.  That’s partly your fault of course.”

“My fault?”

“Yes.   The boy you conscripted.  You must know the Empress wanted her own pet Theirin. 

“Why would you-“

“-Duncan, he has the looks.”  She saw his eyebrows rise.  “Oh, not everyone will see it.  The Couslands probably already know.  Of course Loghain does and the king and queen.  Howe and Guerrin, too, if I’m not mistaken.   And give her protests at his conscription, Elemena.  Do you that many nobles can keep a secret?”

Duncan sighed.  “Probably not.”

“Fortunately, few others in Ferelden noticed.  He was careful to keep that helmet on.  He must have some wits about him.  Being a warden might stop the Empress from wanting him in Val Royeaux.  With Cailan unavailable, now that Anora’s shown herself fertile, the boy would have served nicely.  As a warden, he can’t.  Was that your purpose?”

“No.  No, but it may be she still wants him.  I’ve been asked to send him to Montsimmard.  It would explain the persistence of some and the indifference of others.”  _No wonder Mother Dorothea told her protégé to drop the request._

“And will you send him to Montsimmard?”

“No, I need him here.  He’s my adjutant.  He’s likely my successor.  Unless Weisshaupt orders it, he stays in Ferelden.”

“Good to see you have some sense, Duncan.  Sometimes I feared you considered yourself subordinate to Warden Commander Montargis.”

“I do not!”

“Good.  So all the boy’s  training will not go to waste?”

Duncan calmed at the change in topic.  “No.  He’s bright, talented and dedicated.  Has the natural charm of his family.”

Bann Reginalda laughed.  “Ah yes, the Theirin charm.  Or curse.  Which is it with him?  His father was not a womanizer, just unwise in some of his choices.  Cailan on the other hand….”

“Neither.  He has the habits of a brother.”

“Which type of brother?”

Duncan flushed.  “The celibate type of brother.  I think his attraction would be to woman, but he has no experience.  That is neither here nor there, Reginalda.”

The older woman laughed.  “So he’s a leader?”

“He doesn’t realize it, but yes.  I just hope I have enough time to train him.  Your comments worry me.  I had planned on having Riordan come and mentor him, but that is perhaps not a good plan if they want him in Orlais.”

“He can’t breed.  Am I correct in assuming that?”

Duncan pursed his lips, rubbing his temples, “Yes.  You’re too well informed.”

“Simple deduction.  All those wardens and no children.”  She rubbed her hands close to the fire.  “Duncan, have you met with Loghain?”

“Yes.  A less salubrious meeting.  He distrusts us completely and believes the Orlesians created the rumor of a Blight to gain entry to Ferelden.  No matter how much I assure him I have not requested chevaliers, only Orlesian wardens, as we’ve agreed, he disbelieves me.  He will obey the king’s command to muster, but not happily.”  Duncan took a long sip of his whiskey, draining he glass.  He refilled it from the bottle the servant had left on the table.  “He seems more difficult to work with here.  He was agitated, angry and…not logical or practical.  Not what I have come to expect of him from our encounters at Ostagar.  Angry yes, but not illogical.”

“Yes, we’ve all noticed his not always rational behavior.  The queen is said to be quite concerned.  The king annoyed.  He and Loghain have been heard to argue more of late.”

“Is someone influencing him?”

“Not Teyrn Cousland.  He’s been in Highever all winter.  Arl Urien Kendalls has been in residence, but he cares little for such matters.  He’s more concerned with taxing Denerim.  Arl Howe, however, has been in residence at Amaranthine House most of the winter.”

“We learned that when we tried to stop at Vigil’s Keep to recruit. “

Bann Reginalda smiled.  “And how did that go?”

“As it usually does.  We were turned away.”

The bann gave a very unladylike snort.  “If anyone influences Loghain, it’s Howe.  I just can’t believe, after all these years, he's become that persuasive.”  She laughed again.  “Perhaps he’s uses some sort of Tevinter spell from that magister he keeps in Amaranthine.”

“The magister remains there?”

“Yes, even Howe is wise enough not to bring a Tevinter magister to Denerim, near the palace.  Everyone believes they still use blood magic.”

“But wouldn’t the templars sense its use?”

“I wondered that.  I’m told the Tevinters can mask their magic.  The templars would have to be nearby to notice blood magic.  I would think a magister would be careful about that.  We don’t keep templars in the palace or in our estates, so they could do what they wanted if they gained entry.”

“That’s disturbing.”

“Well, the templars try to ensure the magister does not enter Denerim.  That does not mean Howe is not up to something.  He keeps that ridiculously large guard in imitation of Maric’s Shield.  If I were Bryce Cousland I’d ask more questions, but the Teyrn seems unconcerned.”

“You’ve spoken with him?”

“And with Eleanor.  She’s concerned, but Bryce is not.”

“Enlightening as always, My Lady.  I will keep Alistair close and in Ferelden.  I’ll keep convincing King Cailan and Queen Anora that we do have a Blight coming.”  He frowned.  “Anyone at the Landsmeet I should cultivate or avoid?”

“The usual.  Alfstanna of Waking Sea, Bryland of South Reach, Wulff of West Hills and Sighard of Dragon’s Peak should all support a muster.  Southron Hills as well.  Redcliffe will follow Cailan as will Rainesfere.  Ceorlic will follow Loghain.  Loren will follow the money.  Highever and most of its banns will support you of course, as shall I.  Howe? He will appear to support the king, but make enough waffling noises that Loghain might think he supports him as well.  Howe’s banns will follow him.”

“Sounds like the normal factions.”

“Ferelden rarely changes.  Cultivate those who already favor you and find out if they can gain other allies.  Perhaps share some of your secrets, Duncan.  Particularly with the king and queen and perhaps her father and the Couslands.”

“I can only share so much, My Lady.  As you note, much of the information is there if you look.  I can’t break my vows.”

“You vow to do what you must Duncan.  Do it!”

“I’ll think about your advice My Lady.  Now I should take my leave.  It grows late.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Two men, each bundled in cloak and hood against the still frigid wind off the Amaranthine Ocean, passed each other in silence.  One headed back to the Warden Compound in the palace.   The other headed through the market to a small house near the chantry.  Arl Howe did not need Marjolaine any longer.  He had his own contacts now.  A coffer in a concealed compartment in his study held documents whose forged contents condemned Bryce Cousland as a traitor.  After hearing rumors of a muster from Loghain,  he had sent to his Captain, Lowan, telling him the plans for after the Orlesian wedding might be better concealed by the muster.  He would speak directly with Lowan when he returned to the Vigil after the Landsmeet, but he needed his guard and Shield to be ready.  Lowan would see to that.

Tonight he did not visit Marjolaine for intelligence.  He only wanted pleasure. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. I hope you continue to read and enjoy. If you have time, reviews, short or long, are always welcome!
> 
> Again, thanks to katdancer2 for allowing her Risa Aeducan to travel with Alistair, Duncan and Taina for a while. This outcome is AU for Risa because, of course, kat’s Risa becomes an awesome warden. 
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eyes. Her astute comments improve every post. Any errors are all mine. Thanks to those who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. I do love reviews and welcome comments, encouragement, suggestions and critiques. 
> 
> Special thanks to those who reviewed or commented: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, ElyssaCousland, katdancer, EasternViolet, chaoticharmony1991, caraine and SnowHelm. You inspire me and make me think. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback.


	63. One Last Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:30 Dragon Wintermarch and Guardian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world. Stories sometimes incorporate game dialogue, although not always in its original context. Either way, that dialogue belongs to Bioware. 
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 63** **– ONE LAST TIME**

* * *

 

**9:29 Dragon  25 Haring  ===  Royal Palace, Denerim**

After an afternoon helping Anora with her correspondence, Lys needed some fresh air and exercise. With First Day imminent and Winter’s End approaching, it seemed every noble in Ferelden had written to request a boon.  Lys curtsied to Anora as she left the queen’s presence.  Anora had to be more exhausted than she was, but the queen maintained her outward calm as Lys took her leave. 

Sparring with Kai or a dummy had become a daily habit since her return from Highever in Firstfall.  She had been angry when she returned to Court and the anger had not dissipated.  Instead, anxiety about the impending wedding mixed with anger about the betrothal to create a volatile mix which tipped into bad temper far too often.  So often, that Anora had spoken to her about it.  Sparring helped.  The arms master complained about ruined practice dummies, but that was better than disappointing Anora.

Kai, she knew, had gone shopping with Erlina attended by two of the queens own guard.  That meant another dummy would die today.  Lys stopped in her apartment to change into leathers and then headed for the armory.   Upon arriving, she put on her mail cowl and helmet.  Loghain had suggested she practice in headgear to adjust her form to the limited vision and altered balance that resulted.

“Glad to see you taking my suggestion, Lady Cousland,” a familiar voice said behind her.

“Teyrn Loghain.  We don’t see you here often.”

“I usually practice at Fort Drakon.  I had a meeting in the palace and was in my armor, so I came here today.  Would you care to spar?”

“I would like that, Your Grace.  You’ll save a sparring dummy and make the arms master happy.” 

Lys fought ferociously, but finally succumbed to Loghain’s greater reach and power.  After yielding, she sat up on the packed dirt of the yard rubbing a badly bruised forearm.

“It’s not broken, is it?”  Loghain frowned slightly when she didn’t jump back up.

“No, just bruised, I think.  Remind me not to go one-on-one with you again,” Lys groaned, getting up.  “I’m quicker, but you anticipate every move I make.”

“You should practice more.”

“I practice every day.”  Lys sheathed her blades.  “I need to develop some new moves to surprise you.”

“Or perhaps your Orlesian betrothed has weakened your will,” Loghain sneered.

Lys closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.  _This again._   “Weakness of will is hardly an Orlesian failing.  I’d say their persistence in the face of obdurate Fereldan opposition might be as legendary as the opposition itself.  Now, cruelty, oppression, overweening hubris…Orlais has failings enough, just not weakness.”

Loghain had begun to walk out of the practice ring as she spoke.  He whirled and took two steps across the ring towards her, sword drawn.  Lys barely had time to raise her blade before he struck.

“Maker, Teyrn Loghain what are you doing?”

“Attacking a traitor.”

“Me? Are you insane?  I am betrothed because _our King_ arranged it.  I certainly didn’t desire it.”

“At your father’s behest.”

“I don’t even know what to say to that.  Papa did not convince King Cailan, rather the reverse.  You understood that at Satinalia.  What do you know now that I don’t?”

“That Cailan traded Eamon’s influence for that of you father.  That in a year Cailan has done more deals with the Orlesians under your father’s guidance than he did under Eamon’s in four.  That those deals favor Highever.”

Loghain had sheathed his sword, but stood with arms crossed, glaring at Lys.  She stepped back, sheathing her own blade and dropped her hands to her sides. 

“Teyrn Loghain, everyone knows the contents of the mining agreements.  The Landsmeet approved them in August.  The deals benefit Highever, yes, but also the whole of Ferelden.  Papa did nothing in secret, which cannot be said of Arl Eamon I suspect.”

Loghain shook his head.  What Lys said made sense, yet he knew... _knew_...Bryce had fooled them all.  He just wasn’t quite sure how.  Anora made the same sensible arguments when he accused Bryce in her presence.  Cailan argued or simply walked away in anger and disgust.  Both pointed out that Bryce had remained in Highever all winter, while a chastened, if quietly resentful, Eamon had returned to his post as Chancellor.  No one, Anora would say repeatedly, no one tells either of us what to do.  We listen to advice and counsel, we present our policies to the Landsmeet and Ferelden rules itself through its nobility as it should.    

“And your betrothal,” Loghain continued.  “You’ll provide Orlais with claims to the throne.”

“The Ferelden throne has a king and an heir, should the Landsmeet choose her.  Any children I have might have pose no threat.  There is Theirin blood in families from Nevarra to Antiva.  Mine won’t be the first foreign family related to Calenhad.”  She held his gaze.  “If I even have children.  Perhaps there won’t be any little de Rievaulx pups.” 

“They will be the first Orlesians with Theirin blood.” 

She shook her head.  “Teyrn Loghain, the Landsmeet will never agree to an Orlesian king, even one with Theirin blood.”

He rubbed his temple.  Again, his head ached.  “That you are childless won’t matter once the wardens get Alistair into Orlais.”

“Alistair?  He’s here in Ferelden.  Fergus says he serves as the Warden Commander’s adjutant.  Warden Duncan has no plans to send him away.  And to what purpose?  Grey Wardens rarely have children.  They…change physically to become wardens.  It makes them unable to reproduce.”

Loghain stared at her as if she had two heads.  “Did Cailan know this?  Was that why he had Alistair conscripted?  Bah I don’t believe it.”

“Then don’t,” Lys snapped.  “I don’t know what the king knows.  I do know what I know.  This is Ferelden.  We choose our ruler or had you forgotten.”  She looked sadly at her old friend.  “Thank you for the match Teyrn Loghain.  I wish you all the best with Delilah.  My betrothal is not to my liking, but I will do my _duty_ to my king and my family.  I’m sorry you don’t understand that.”  Lys walked out of the yard, grabbed her cloak, and left the armory.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Still sweating and upset by her exchange with Loghain, Lys wandered through the snow-encrusted gardens instead of returning directly to the palace.  Wrapping her heavy woolen cloak around her, she sat on a bench already cleared of snow and ice.  Sherpa settled by her side, resting her head in Lys’ lap.  She absently scratched the mabari’s head _.  You’re the only creature who knows everything about me, Sherpa.  I don’t know how I can leave you behind.  Denis wants you to come with us, so I suppose it might be safe._ Sherpa whined quietly. _I know.  You like him.  I should listen to you._

“Lys!  You’ll catch you’re death sitting out here after you spar.”

Lys sighed when she heard the familiar voice.  “Guess there’s nowhere to hide, Sherpa,” she whispered.  Sherpa raised her head to watch Pippa approach.

“I needed to cool down, Pippa.  My cloak keeps me quite warm.”  Lys said sharply.  “As does my tunic, which you know very well is insulated and from Areth.  I won’t get chilled.  Sweet Andraste, you’re worse than Mum.”

Pippa sat beside her.  “You need to curb your temper, Lys.  What’s wrong with you lately?  Everything you say has an edge.  Even Queen Anora feels like whatever she says will set you off.”

“The queen has discussed my behavior with me, Pippa.  I don’t need you to reprise those discussions.  I’m well aware my behavior disappoints everyone.”

“Maker’s Breath, I didn’t mean to set you off.  Can we start again?”

Lys looked at her, puzzled.

“We used to be good friends, Lys.  I thought when you came to Denerim we would be again, but it seems we keep growing farther apart.  You don’t _talk_ with me.  You treat me no differently than you treat Delilah.”

Lys sighed.  “Pippa, we led different lives after Cailan became King.   You know that.  You came here and led the life you expected to lead.  I went off on my travels.  You’re conventional, which is fine, it’s just not me.  We have less in common than we did as girls.”

“Yet, you seemed happy to become one of us, one of Queen Anora’s ladies.”

“I was.  I am.  So much so that I’d like to remain.  Remain or go back to my travels.”  Lys undid the thong that held her hair back.  She brushed her hands through it to spread the damp hair out over her shoulders.  It fell forward shielding her face as she stared at the ground.  “I thought I could regain the path I left when my life diverged from its expected course.  Become Anora’s Lady for a few years and then marry in the Marches or Antiva.  Cousin Samuel and the Falanni always have candidates to present.  I never, in my worst imaginings, expected to marry an Orlesian.”  She looked up sensing Pippa flinch.  “I’m sorry if that hurts you, but you marrying Guy…it’s just not the same.”

Pippa sat stiffly, clenching her fists.  “No, of course not.  I’m not a Cousland.  I’m just a silly Arl’s daughter.”

“Exactly,” Lys said very quietly watching Pippa’s eyes widen.  “Not silly, Pippa, but a Fereldan Arl’s daughter making a good match with a noble of equal rank.”

Pippa relaxed slightly, her hands remaining clenched.

“Your first born will inherit in Orlais, your second born in Higheverport and the others, well they’ll go to the Chantry, the Templars or good marriages.  It appears that you and Guy met inadvertently and came to like each other.  The match fit King Cailan’s plans for Orlesian alliances so he and Anora approved.  I’m happy for you.”

“Why are you and Denis so different?”

“Pippa, our match was agreed between the King and the Empress.  Without Queen Anora’s knowledge, by the way.  Empress Celene needs a way to breed Theirins.  I’m the brood mare.”

“What!”  Pippa stared, and then replied softly.  “I’d forgotten that your family has Theirin blood.”

“We don’t make anything of it, but we do.  Two or three Theirin princesses married Couslands over the years.  Our claim is the strongest outside the Theirin line itself I’m told.  I’m a prize.  Lucky me.”

“Then Oren is too.”

“Oren is not Orlesian.”  Lys watched Pippa try to digest the information.  _Maker sometimes she could be so na_ _ï_ _ve._ “Pippa, this match was set up by Empress Celene.  Denis has no more choice than I do.  He’s seems a good man, but I dread living in Orlais.  They hold very different beliefs about noble behavior and rights, about the status of commoners and elves, about… everything.”

“You don’t care for Denis?”

“I don’t love him, if that’s what you mean.  I like him.  I find him attractive.  There’s a strong physical attraction-“

“-Lys!”

“Maker, Pippa.  You’re modesty is almost funny.”

“You know I don’t find Areth’s relaxed standards appealing Lys, particularly when you bring them here.  I don’t like the…freedoms as you seem to.”

Lys sighed.  “I know.  Another difference between us.  What you saw at Satinalia was me giving in to those _freedoms._ It had nothing to do with love.  If you must know, I’m terrified of going to Orlais and being completely alone.  For all I know, I’ll be locked up in a tower, spied on by my maid servant, and expected to breed on schedule.”

“Why would Kai spy on you?”

“Pippa, I won’t take Kai with me.  You really don’t understand how poorly the Orlesian’s treat elves do you?  Will you take Myfa?”

“Of course.”

“Guard her carefully, Pippa.  Any elf, no matter who they serve, is fair game.  She should not venture out alone, no noble crest or mask will protect her.”

“You can’t know-“

“-I do know.  I traveled to Val Chevin for House Haris.  Two town guardsmen grabbed Kai in the market, only I couldn’t save her there. Fortunately, Cousin Sam and three troops from the Wrath could.  If it had been chevaliers, nothing could have saved her.  As servants of Orlesian nobles, Kai and Myfa might have more protection, but not from everyone.  Try to keep her safe Pippa.”

“You won’t take Kai?”

“No.  She’s better suited to working at House Haris or joining the Wrath.  When I go, I go alone.”  Lys had drawn her feet up on the bench under her cloak.  She wrapped her arms around her knees and buried her head.

Pippa realized she was crying, which was disturbing.  She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen Lys cry.  She reached out touching Lys’ shoulder.  “Lyssie, it will work out.”

“That’s my mantra.  I keep saying it to myself,” came the muffled reply.  “I only wish I could believe it.”

**9:29 Dragon  30 Haring  ===  Royal Palace, Denerim**

“I think that’s the last letter, Your Majesty,”  Lys said rising from the desk where she sat opposite the queen.  “I wish you would let me handle them.  You seem tired today.”

“I’m fine Lys.  I just want this First Day celebration to be perfect.   The Elves will have their own celebration in the Alienage, but we’ll make sure this year that no ruffians disturb them.  I should thank Kailian as well as Erlina for helping organize the gifts for the Hahren to distribute.”

“Kai enjoyed shocking her cousin with your kindnesses.  Shianni can be a bit of a rabble rouser when she chooses.”

“I would like to meet some of the elven leaders once this darkspawn scare is over, Lys.   I should thank others for the information they provide to Erlina. The network you, Kai and Erlina set up provides a wealth of information.  Sometimes too much.”  Anora pinched her nose.  “We have so much information and so little knowledge.  I sense Howe is up to something, although we cannot determine what, but I digress.  A thank you for the elves.  Will Kai help arrange it?”

“She can speak to Shianni and Erlina before we leave.  Shianni respects Erlina now.  They should have no trouble working together.”

“Good.  I remember how much more pleasant Higheverport is.  I’d like to copy it, if I can convince Arl Kendalls to cooperate.”

Lys rolled her eyes without thinking and then flushed slightly. 

Anora chuckled.  “I know.  Faint hope.”

“You should consider, Your Majesty, that it could take time.  Even in Highever, the elves remain separate.  They prefer it, but prejudice stills exists.  You will want to consider how to guard the Alienage.  If humans, particularly nobles, can enter now think how much easier it will be if there is no gate.”

“You make good points, Lys.   I would consult the elves, their… _Hahren_ is it?  And any other leaders to determine how they can govern and protect themselves with our help.”

“And Arl Urien?  Or, more importantly, Vaughan and his minions?”

“Ah, well there’s the problem.”  Anora pinched her nose again.  “A problem to be dealt with after this darkspawn threat ends.”

Lys recognized an end to the discussion of the Alienage.  “Your Majesty, I wanted to thank you for allowing me to leave in Wintermarch and Guardian.  I know it’s a busy time for everyone.  I have so many people and places I want to see one last time before I leave Ferelden.  It’s means a lot to me.  Thank you.”

“I could do no less Lys.  You’re doing your duty.  A duty Cailan and your family demand.  I know you would not choose this marriage.  Take the time you need.  We’ll survive here.”

“It’s such a busy time.  Winter’s End and then the Landsmeet.”

“And I have all my clothes either here or ordered. House Haris will take good care of me.  Delilah will help with correspondence.”

“Betrothal to Teyrn Loghain agrees with her I think,” Lys said.

“It does seem to.  She’s much…less guarded,” Anora replied.  “She and Pippa will have everything under control.”  She saw Lys bite her upper lip.  “It’s not that we don’t need or want you Lys, but we can manage.”  Anora smiled.  “It will be less fun.  You tend to instigate more music, dancing and games than the rest of us.”

“I should return at the beginning of Drakonis, as usual.  Maybe Pippa can return home then and help Aunt Alys with her wedding plans.  I know she offered to stay through Guardian this year.”  Lys wrinkled her nose.  “Truthfully, I think she’s avoiding Aunt Alys.   She convinced her mother she could work with House Haris here if she stayed.”

Anora chuckled.  “I did get the impression Pippa would rather leave Arlessa Alys to make all the plans.”

“Mum’s left her alone too.  Originally it was to have been a double wedding, but Mum decreed the ceremonies would be separate.  Very diplomatically of course, but I think Aunt Alys annoyed her as well.”

“Perhaps I’ll leave the date of her return to Highever up to Pippa.”  Anora put her parchments, ink, and quills into their respective coffers.  “I will miss you Lys.  I don’t have many I can call friend.  You’re one.”

“I’ll miss you too, Anora.”  Lys walked around the desk and hugged her queen.  “This isn’t _lese majesté_ is it?”

Anora laughed.  “Only if you’re armed.”  She giggled.  “Oh but you are aren’t you.  That leg dagger.”

Lys stepped back.  “And I hope you are too.”

Anora slipped a hand through a slit in her gown and retrieved a small dagger.  “I learned your lessons well, Lys.”

“Good. At least I know you can defend yourself.”

“And keep myself informed.  Lys, did you and father argue the other day?”

Lys grew serious and began to cross her arms.  She let her right hand slip down to hold her left wrist, instead.

“Not exactly.  We sparred.  He beat me, no surprise.  I gave him a good fight.  Then he got angry about father and my marriage.  He called Papa a traitor.  I tried to reason with him.  It seemed to just confuse him and make him angrier.  I finally left.  It was unlike him and most disturbing.”

Anora frowned.  “He’s been having headaches again and these angry outbursts.  He had one with Cailan yesterday.  Cailan told me about it.  He accused Cailan of seeing other women.  Cailan hasn’t done that since Elin’s birth.  At least not when he’s here in Denerim.  I don’t understand it.”

“It scared me, Anora.  Calling Papa a traitor…that’s not a casual accusation.”

“No, it’s not, Lys.  I’ll speak to him and see what I can do.  In the meantime, enjoy First Day with us.  Then enjoy your visits at home.”

 “Thank you, Anora.”  

**9:30 Dragon  Wintermarch  ===  Highever**

 As they had the previous year, Lys and Kai left Denerim shortly after First Day.  They rode to Highever, leaving their baggage to follow in a cart.  Starfall and Hitch reveled in the long ride, happy to exchange the confines of Denerim for the freedom of the road and the reward of Highever pasturage.  Sherpa loped alongside, also pleased to be going home. 

_Perhaps I can take Starfall with me._   She looked down at Sherpa _.  I will take you girl.  You like Denis and he, you._   She looked over at Kai, so comfortable on Hitch after years in the saddle.  _And I’ll leave Hitch with Kai._ She sighed.  She was sighing a lot lately.  I feel like I’m making out my will.  _I suppose it is a bit like death.  Leaving everything you care about behind forever._ She kicked Starfall into a gallop.  _Stop it, Lys!  Enjoy the time you have._

Kai looked at Lys racing ahead with half of their guard caught unaware and trying to catch up.  _Maker, she’s unpredictable._   Sherpa continued to lope alongside Kai.  She yipped, as if in agreement with Kai’s thoughts.

The travelers arrived at Castle Cousland after five days of hard riding.  Lys greeted her parents warmly, then immediately went to her rooms with Kai to unpack. 

“I’m going for walk,” she announced and then surprised Kai by asking her to come along.  “Dress warmly.  The wind off the sea will be brisk.”

Kai and Sherpa followed Lys to her favorite perch on the Cliffs of Conobar.  They climbed down to a ledge ten feet or so below the lip of the cliff.  It offered some protection from the wind, but a clear view out to sea.  Seabirds floated on the waves, dove from above to disappear into the depths, or circled looking for treasure floating amidst the whitecaps.  Lys laid a blanket on the ground to provide warmth.  Sherpa lay full length across the space, providing a cozy backrest.

“I love it here.”

Kai did not respond.

“We’ll go to the Rasiae in a few days, Kai.  I want you to stay with them.”

“What!”

“Stay with them.  You’ve always wanted to remain longer, so do it now when you have the chance.  You don’t have to stay forever.  If you decide to leave, Mum will help you.  Write letters.  You can go to Cousin Sam or Commander Aleksi.  You can work here or in Denerim or Cumberland.  Wherever you want.  You just can’t come with me.”

Kai sighed.  “You picked the one thing that I’d have trouble refusing.”

Lys grinned her old grin.  “Of course.  I’m not stupid, just angry and sad.”

“I’ll miss you.”

“Not as much as I’ll miss you, my friend.  You’ll have the clan all around you.  I want you to have the options I don’t.  Please don’t fight me on this Kai.  I’ll be more content with Denis in Orlais if I know you’re safe and happy.”  She gazed out towards the horizon.  “I was going to just leave you with the Fenharial, but that wouldn’t be right.  You’d just follow me back and we’d have to have this conversation when we’re both angry.”  She glanced at Kai sitting to her left.  “I want you to agree now.  We’ll have a good visit, then say our good-byes.  Someday we’ll meet again in Cumberland or here, but for now we each need to go our own ways.”

Kai would not look her.   She kept brushing her cheek with the back of her hand.  Lys put her arm around Kai’s shoulders. 

“I hate it when you’re right.” Kai muttered.

“Must be doing a lot of hating then.”

Kai offered a laugh that sounded more like a cough.  “You’re not right that often, My Lady.”  She said nothing for a while.  “But you are right in this I fear.  I would be more a worry than a comfort.  What I hate is having good choices when you have none.”  Kai did look at her then.  “Take Sherpa.  She’ll be fine.  Denis adores her.  I don’t think it’s an act or Sherpa would know.”

Behind them Sherpa barked softly.

“I’ll already decided to.”

A sound almost like a purr followed as Sherpa settled her head back on her paws.

 “I’ll take you, but you’ll have to put up with their dogs and not hurt them.”  Lys admonished.

The three of them spent the rest of the afternoon, reminiscing, watching the sea and enjoying one of many _last times_ for Lys.

**9:30 Dragon  Wintermarch  ===  Rasiae Clan, Coastlands Camp**

Keeper Lilia stood with First Vaniden before the gathered clan.  The central fire burned brightly in the cool Wintermarch night. 

“Tonight we gather to invite one of our Alienage cousins to join our clan.  We have defied our traditions in accepting a _shemlen_ and a flat-ear into our midst.”  Keeper Lilia smiled as quiet protests met her words.  “You protest now, but years ago you were shocked when we let the young _shemlen_ girl stay with the Fenharial family.  We found safety here, on her father’s lands.   Then the girl saved one of our own.  We tolerated her after that and then learned to love her.  When she asked to allow another to join her visits, an elf from the city, we agreed.  Both came to learn from us, not to teach us their ways.  Both have become part of our clan.  Now we chose to offer Kailian Tabris, who we know as Adaia, a place here for as long as she will stay.  She has learned our habits and honors the ways of the Creators.”  The Keeper turned to Kailian.  “Adaia, will you become a member of the Rasiae?”

Lys gently pushed Kai forward from where they stood together with the Fenharial family.

“I will.”  Kai whispered.

“Will you accept a _vallaslin_ and the protection of a creator?”

“I will, Keeper Lilia.”  Kai’s voice grew stronger.

“Then we will begin the ceremony.  Andruil will protect you.  Please come with First Vaniden and I.  We will lead you through your dedication to Andruil and, finally, create your _vallaslin_.”

Lys watched the Keeper and her First lead Kailian away with mixed feelings of pride, happiness, and loss.  Sari and Ariel touched Lys’ arms. 

“Come with us, _lethallan._ As you know the ceremony takesmore than a day.  Adaia must first meditate on the creators, her protector Andruil and our ways.  The _vallaslin_ is the final step.”  Ariel led them to the small fire by their aravel.  She poured a warm herb tea for each of them.

“Why did you turn down the _vallaslin_ , Melys?  You once said you would love to accept it.”  Sari asked.

“I’m not Dalish, Sari.  I realize the honor, but I do not worship your Creators.  It would be wrong to pretend I do.  I don’t even know which would be appropriate.”

“You always said Sylaise would be your protector.”

“Once, that was true.  Now, perhaps Dirthamen would be more appropriate.  I seem to be a keeper of secrets.  If I weave, it’s a cloth of deception and misdirection.”

“Will this marriage be so terrible?”  Ariel asked.  “Is it not a good match in your world?”

“Some think it is good.  I don’t know, Ariel.  What I know about Orlais is frightening, particularly their desire to re-conquer Ferelden.  How my life, in particular, will be with Lord de Rievaulx is unknown and the unknown is frightening too.”  She rubbed her thumbs against the cup she held.  “I should try to find the good, I know, but I can’t.  Oh, Denis seems a good man.  He seems to care about me.  He’s undoubtedly attractive physically.”

Sari giggled.  “That is always a plus, Melys.”

She smiled wryly at the two Dalish.  “That is a good thing, I agree.  At least coupling should be pleasant.”  _As long as I prevent conception._

Ariel’s smile faded.  “Adaia requested we keep you here until she returns.”

Lys head snapped up.  “I-“

“-she feared you planned to sneak off.  She said she would come and find you if you did.”

“I won’t.  I did think of it, but I want to see her.  See the _vallaslin_.  I…we need a proper leave taking.  I know that.  I’ve been unpredictable lately.  Impulsive.  I can understand why she thought I might leave.”  She smiled sadly and scratched Sherpa’s neck.  “I’m not leaving until she returns.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

A few nights later the clan gathered again to welcome their new sister.  Adaia walked to the center of the circle with Keeper Lilia.  She surveyed her clan mates. 

“Please join me in affirming our Oath,” Adaia requested, as other initiates had before her.  Her voice rang out leading the others in proclaiming their heritage.

_We are the Dalish: keepers of the lost lore, walkers of the lonely path. We are the last elvhen. Never again shall we submit._

“I proclaim my loyalty,” Adaia continued. “to Andruil and the _Vir Tanadhal_ , the Way of Three Trees.   Lys smiled, happy for Kai.  _She’s lived the Vir Tanadhal all her life._   Kai recited the Way.

_Vir Assan, the Way of the Arrow: fly straight and do not waver_.  
 _Vir Bor'assan, the Way of the Bow: bend but never break_.  
 _Vir Adahlen, the Way of the Forest: together we are stronger than the one_.

_Sweet Andraste, but I will miss her._ Lys brushed away a tear. _Andruil and Sylaise are sisters, much as Kai and I are.  Once I would have followed Sylaise and the way of the Vir Atish’an, the Way of Peace, while understanding that it’s opposite the Vir Tanadhal, just as Andruil and Sylaise are opposites.  Now…I walk in shadows.  Perhaps I am a shadow.  Dirthamen would indeed be my protector now._ The cheering and movement of all around her startled Lys out of her reverie.  The clan welcomed their new member with shouts, hugs, food and drink.  She watched as Kai accepted their greetings.  When their eyes met across the crowd Lys grinned, clearly happy.

Kai finally made her way to Lys.

“It looks magnificent,” Lys said.

“It still hurts a little, but Vaniden’s healing took care of most of the pain once they finished the design itself.”

Lys pulled her into a hug.  “I’m so proud of you.  Presumptuous of me, I know, but I am.  Proud and so happy.”

“I wish my _mamae_ could see me,” Kai admitted.  “I think she would be proud too.  I’ve always wondered if she came from a Dalish clan in the Marches. She would never say.  If she did, she left before she had her _vallaslin_ , but her bow skills came from somewhere.”  Kai grinned.  “You can be proud for her.”

“I’d be honored, Kai…Adaia.”

“The Jherlae family has invited me to share their Aravel,” Kai continued, still excited.  “Khareen and I have been friends since my first visit.  We hunt well together.  I accepted.”

“I’m glad.  And the Fenharial will always have a place for you at their hearth.”

“I know.  I’m fortunate.” Kai stared at the ground where Sherpa sat by Lys’ feet.  “You did this for me.  None of this would have happened if you hadn’t saved me.  In Denerim.  In Highever.  You gave me the gift of your friendship, Lys.  I couldn’t ask for a better sister.  Thank you.  _Ma serannas_.”

“I think of you as my sister, Kai.  I thought you might think it-“

“-presumptuous?  Creators, Lys, you are dense at times.”  Kai hugged her.  “I will miss you every day.  Now, let’s celebrate while we can.”

Lys sniffed and wiped her cheek.  “So, how intoxicating is this Dalish wine?  The Fenharials have never let us drink too much.”

Kai grinned.  “Tonight we find out.”  Drums beat and lyres thrummed. The two young women joined the elves’ celebration, drinking, eating and dancing around the fire. 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

A  small group of elves escorted Lys back to Star Lake.  The ride home from there took less than a day.  Riding Starfall, Sherpa running beside her, Lys realized she had never made this ride alone.  As a child her Papa, Pippa or Fergus had been along.  Later other friends now lost to her, Loghain, Nathaniel or Alistair, had joined the rides.  Then Kai.  She knew she should be grateful for the times they had together _.   I won_ _’t be twenty for another week.  Have all twenty year olds lost so many friends?_   _And why can’t I stop these emotions?   I could control my emotions as a banker._

Lys thought about her life as Layne Haris, the merchant baker.  _It was never personal.  My emotions weren’t involved.  Merchant banking was a game where the wins and losses were goods and money.  I play less well when the outcomes mean gains or losses for people I love._   _I’ll have to learn.  I’ll need to play the Game in Orlais.  Mis-steps could affect not only Ferelden, but my family and friends._

As the towers of Castle Cousland came into view, she slowed to a trot.  She had promised Kai she would talk with her mother.  They had not really talked since her betrothal.  She wasn’t sure what they could say, but she had promised so she would try.

What she did not want to do when she returned to Castle Cousland was greet Denis and his father, the Duc de Lydes.  The two had been expected when she and Kai left Castle Cousland in Wintermarch.  The Duc planned to meet the family and his future good daughter.  He would also learn more about the plans for restoring mining to his lands.  She understood that the two Orlesian nobles would expect her to be there, but she adamantly refused to wait.  She would not give up her last visit to the Rasiae along with everything else.  Her mother had surprised her by supporting her demands.   Her father had not been pleased, but he had given in.   His only requirement was that she return before the Orlesians' departure.  She was acceding to that demand, but only just.  They planned to leave immediately after the Name Day celebrations for her mother and herself.  At least she would only spend a week in their company.

**9:30 Dragon  16 Guardian  ===  Castle Cousland**

“Did the Landsmeet go well?”  Lys sat in the kitchens with her brother, who had just returned from Denerim with Bryce.  The rest of the family and their guests had not risen yet.  They sat at the scrubbed wooden worktable, a breakfast of porridge, sweetened with honey, and tea.  Nan and her helpers worked in the background.

“Well enough.  Cailan ordered the Bannorn and Nobles to muster their troops and report to Ostagar by 25 Drakonis.”

“That’s barely a month.  Can they get the word out and gather in that time?”

“They have to.  Duncan made it all sound very dire.”

“You’ve been to Ostagar, Fergus.  Is it so dire?”

“Not that I saw six months ago, but the darkspawn attacks increased as winter ended.  Arls Wulff and Neruda both attested to the increased activity.  Loghain vehemently insisted that Orlais has created the threat somehow.”

Lys stopped, spoon halfway to her mouth.  “He thinks the Orlesians are league with darkspawn?”

Fergus shrugged.  “I’m not sure it’s as dire as Duncan suggests, but Loghain’s fears seem irrational.”

“He’s been acting oddly.”  Lys took another bite of porridge.  “How did Duncan convince the Landsmeet?”

“Duncan has convinced Cailan, and through him the Landsmeet, that an Archdemon’s appearance is imminent and that we must all gather to defeat it.  If no Archdemon appears, Cailan will be disappointed and Duncan will lose credibility.”  He ate spoonful of porridge and poured more honey in his bowl.

“You’ll rot your teeth, you will, Fergus Cousland with all the honey you consume!”

Lys giggled.  Fergus threw Nan a false glare.  “You should use more honey, Nan.”

“I’m sweet enough, thank you, Lord Cousland.”

Fergus laughed.  “That’s true, Nan.  Save Oren some of the those cookies you’re baking.”

“Send him with his mother, so I know he eats them, not you!”

Fergus shook his head.  “I love it here.  It’s so….-“

“-safe, comforting, home?”

“All of that little sister.  Now where were we.  Ah yes, less pleasant topics.  I spoke with Alistair – not that he wasn’t pleasant,” he amended seeing Lys’ raised eyebrows.  “It’s what we discussed that was unpleasant. He waffled a bit, but admitted the Wardens can sense not only the darkspawn, but the Archdemon as you said.  I had to admit you had researched all this.  He said to tell you to keep quiet about it or the wardens might hunt you down.  I wasn’t quite sure if he was serious or not.”

“He might have been serious.  It’s said wardens like to keep their secrets.  The other problem would be that I learned most of it in the Traveler’s Council library in Areth.  Warden diaries.  That would be hard to explain.  What I don’t understand is why Cailan and Anora don’t know any of this.”

Fergus shrugged.  “I didn’t ask that question.  I doubt Alistair would know.  He did admit that he – as he put it – _hears_ the Archdemon too.  So perhaps Duncan is not being alarmist. He’s certainly recruiting heavily.  I’ll admit I gave more credence to his warnings after I spoke with Alistair.”

“I heard he’d been here.  With dwarves?  And he recruited a knight?”

“That’s right. The dwarven woman was talented.  Both were really, but for some reason Duncan only took one.  The other went to Cumberland.  Then he took a knight who won the small tourney Da had the Arms Master set up.  I heard he found another in Denerim.  So three more, but there’s no convincing Loghain that this is a Blight.  All he sees are those two chevaliers from two years ago at Ostagar.  He keeps insisting it’s all an Orlesian plot to get chevaliers into Ferelden.  I’m thinking we should send to Cumberland and Antiva requesting help from the wardens there.  They may assume that Orlais will assist, not understanding why we might keep them out.”

“Hadn’t thought of that, but it makes sense.  Perhaps Cousin Samuel or Commander Aleksi could help.  They have good relations with the wardens in Cumberland.  The Nevarrans would understand our reluctance to welcome chevaliers.”

“Let’s talk to Da.  He should approve it, before we act.  We’ll wait until after the Duc and Denis leave.”

**9:30 Dragon  19 Guardian  ===  Castle Cousland**

“Mum, I want to visit Areth before our Name Day.  Will you come with me?”

Eleanor Cousland looked up in surprise.  “Of course.”  Her eyes narrowed.  “Is this something you and Liv planned?”

“No.  I need your advice.  Yours and Aunt Liv’s.”

“About?”

“Preventing children.”

Eleanor sat up giving Lys her full attention.  “You don’t plan to have children with Denis?”

“Of course I don’t.”  Lys sounded annoyed.

Eleanor stood up and walked over to her daughter.   She pulled her into a hug.  “I’m so glad.  I didn’t want to suggest-“

“-why?” Lys said.  “Mum, I thought you approved of this marriage.”

“No, Lyssie I don’t.  I like Denis, but I don’t want you going to Orlais.  I must support Bryce, however, and Cailan.  Just as you are doing.  I think you’re brave and wise.  I am so proud of you, but I wish I could free you from the obligation.”

“Papa doesn’t think all that.”

“No.  Bryce thinks Denis is a good man and that it’s a good match.  He allows himself to believe his own hopes sometimes.”  She shook her head.  “He thinks it and believes it is so.”

“I want to believe Denis will set me aside in four or five years and let me go.  The let me go part may be delusional, but I hope he will.”

“I hope that as well.  We’ll keep it our secret.”

“Just like the contraceptives.  I won’t get the chance to return to Areth often, if at all.  I’ll need to get supplies I can hide.  Or that you can bring when you visit.”

“We’ll work it out, Lys.  There are shots, which should be good for a year or more.  We can start there.  Liv will help.”  Eleanor paced in front of the solar windows.  “You know, with this Blight scare, we should also get Blight vaccines and treatments.  Your father and Fergus already have them, but we all should.  The treatments are pills to take immediately if you’re exposed.  I’m not above saving friends regardless of the Rule.”

“Isn’t there a cure?”

“Yes or so Liv tells me.”

“You asked?”

“Of course I asked.  I’ve tried to discover as much as I could since this threat began.  The same pills which cure immediately after exposure, will also cure later, but you must take them for longer.”  She stopped pacing and stared at Lys.

“What is it, Mum?”

“These pills can cure or slow down the taint in a Grey Warden.”

“You know about the taint?”

“I met Warden Fiona, Lys.  We had some long talks about Grey Wardens, why she feared letting her baby near them and how the taint works.”

“Mum!”

“I almost told you, but it’s not our place to interfere with Alistair.  Or I didn’t think so then.  Now I’m sure we should have, but I came to that belief too late.”  Teyrna Eleanor stared out the window for a moment, then straightened and turned back to Lys.  “As for the Blight, Fergus will take a large supply with him to Ostagar when he goes with our troops.”  Eleanor held up her hand as Lys began to protest.  “This is not the time to discuss who goes with the muster.”

Lys acquiesced.

“Fergus will speak with Alistair and offer him a supply.  He will leave the decision to Alistair, _as should you.”_

Lys nodded.  _Fergus knows my opinion._

“When shall we go visit Areth?”  Lys asked.

“In the morning.  We can ride out to the cliffs near the original homestead and use that entrance to the tunnels.  That way our guests won’t notice anything amiss.”

**9:30 Dragon  23 Guardian  ===  Castle Cousland**

_The best Name Day gift will be the Orlesians leaving._ Lys smiledbrightly at Duc Radolphus as he handed her a glass of hippocras.  The Duc had admitted his misgivings when the Empress had suggested a Fereldan bride for Denis.  He managed to charm the company as he described his view of a Ferelden noble household, which involved dogs, caves, rough fur clothing and undercooked game.  She could see where Denis got his charm if not his looks.  Denis had admitted he favored his mother.  The blond, blued-eyed duc with the large nose and stocky build had not transmitted any of his appearance to his son, but he had passed his personality. 

“Fortunately,” he concluded, “I was entirely wrong in my assessment.  Castle Cousland has a history and noble household to match that of our castle of _Falaiserouge_.  And Lady Melysande will surpass the charms of her Orlesian sisters.  I predict a _déluge_ of Orlesian men upon Ferelden in search of wives.”

“I am not sure, Your Grace, that I warrant such fine words.  I assure you, however, that I credit my mother with any charm I have.  I only follow her example and that of my lovely good sister.”

“See, my dear, you prove my point with you kind words.  I must agree, however, I have rarely if ever been in a household with so many lovely, talented and charming women.” He bowed to the ladies, hand on heart.  “Surely your men are blessed.”

“We are indeed, Your Grace,” Fergus agreed, his arm around Oriana’s shoulder.

“As we will be, when I bring Lys home,” Denis added.  His arm slipped around her shoulders as he spoke.

Lys smiled brightly again.  _Thank the Maker Duc Radolphus doesn’t know how forced my smiles are.  And Denis can’t see when he’s at my side.  Where he always seems to be._    Unlike Oriana, Lys did not slide closer to Denis when his arm encircled her.

“Will you walk with me, Lys?”

“Of course, Denis.”

The two got up and excused themselves.  Duc Radolphus looked after them happily, Teyrn Bryce fondly, and Teyrna Eleanor worriedly.

“Let’s go to your mother’s garden.  I’ve come to enjoy that view.”

Lys followed Denis obediently.  He held the door for her and they walked across the garden to Lys’ favorite spot on the low wall facing the Waking Sea. Denis turned to her. 

“You’re sad.  This is hard for you, I’m afraid.”

“I hope your father doesn’t-“

“-he has no idea.  He thinks you’re happily anticipating becoming Lady de Rievaulx.”  Denis lifted her chin with two fingers and looked in her eyes.  “i hope one day you’ll come to like it.  I will do every thing in my power to make that happen,” he said firmly, releasing her.  “Father has enjoyed his visit, much to his surprise.  Everything he said this afternoon is quite true.”

“Denis, everything  I do is being done for the last time.  It’s bittersweet.  I’m sure I’ll build lovely memories in Lydes, but right now all my memories are here in Ferelden.”  _Well, in Ferelden and Cumberland and Antiva, but he doesn’t need to know that._

“I’ve enjoyed sharing these last memories here.  It helps me understand you better.  I hope you won’t mind if I continue to share them.”

“Continue?  I don’t understand.”

“By staying on until our wedding.”

“Oh.”

“Is that an _oh wonderful_ or _oh I’d rather you leave with your father?_ ”

Lys turned away and looked out over the sea.  “Both I suppose.”

He laughed which surprised her.  “Lys you never make it easy do you?”

She smiled then and looked up at him.  “I only see shades of grey, My Lord, never black or white.”

“So I may stay, but I should let you decide if I share your day.”

“You scare me sometimes, Lord de Rievaulx.”

“How so?”

“You read me too well.  That’s exactly what I wish.  There are last visits I’d like to do on my own or with Fergus or Papa or Mum.”

Denis smiled.  “I’ll be visiting the mines for part of the time.  I want to spend time with you, but, of course, we’ll do whatever you want.”

“Thank you.”

“Lys, this is how our life will be in Lydes, too.  If you want to work with House Haris or our shepherds and weavers or just remain in the castle, you won’t be regulated or limited.”

“I want to believe that, Denis.  I do.  It’s just not the impression I have of Orlais.  I suppose living it will show me.”

“It will.  You will like Lydes.  Perhaps not Val Royeaux so much, but it has its beauty too.  The Grand Cathedrale. The University.  Even the masques.”  The breeze ruffled his brown hair and he pushed it away from his eyes.  “We’ll visit here or Cumberland.  Your family will visit us.  I know I keep saying this, but I want to convince you.  Perhaps you’re right, only living there will do that.  I want you to be happy with me.” 

It was Denis turn to look out to the Waking Sea while Lys watched him.  “I’m not naïve Lys.  I know the Empress arranged this marriage.  I know she wants us to have children.  I know why.  Honestly, I hope our children grow up in Lydes just as I did and stay in Orlais or marry elsewhere in Thedas.  I don’t fancy providing the Empress with a pawn, but  we’re both doing our duty.  I know it’s your family word.  I know it applies to me.  I hope one day you come to care for me as I do for you.”  He laughed quietly shaking his head.  “I didn’t mean to make a speech.  I meant to come out her and wish you Happy Name Day and give you this.”  He reached down for a package he must have left by the wall earlier.

Lys took it.  It was too large to be jewelry.  It looked like a weapons case.  She looked up at Denis, brow furrowed.  He grinned.

“Open it.”  He said excitedly.  “It’s of a style unique to Lydes.  You’ll need to practice before you come home with me.”

“Practice?”  Lys opened the case.  “Sweet Andraste!  It’s magnificent.”  She lifted the long bow out of the case.  It was ash, recurved and beautifully carved.  “It looks something like a Dalish bow.”

“The Dales are not far from Lydes.  Perhaps it was once based on a Dalish bow.  It’s design is hidden in the past.”

“An unusual gift.”

“Appropriate for my betrothed, I think.  Orlesian women do practice archery, but with smaller bows.  You do more than shoot at targets.  I wanted you to have a bow to equal your talents.”

Not knowing quite how to respond, Lys inspected the carvings. “What  do they mean?”

“The falcon is on our crest.  We hunt with falcons you know.”  Denis grinned.  “A skill I look forward to teaching you.  I think you will love it.  The other vines, plants and animals are local to Lydes,” he continued, referring to the carvings again.  “I am not good with names, but I can show you the plants.  The animals you probably recognize.  Fox, otter, trout and others.”

“Thank you, Denis.  It’s a perfect gift.  I’ll look forward to meeting your birds.”  Lys leaned up intending to kiss his cheek, but he turned and caught her lips with his.  His arm circled her waist pulling her close.  One hands still held the bow, but Lys’ other slipped round his neck and threaded through his brown hair loosening the tie holding his queue.  When they pulled apart he kept her close. 

She burrowed her face in his neck.  _I want to believe this will work.  He keeps surprising me with his understanding.  I’m less worried about him, than about living in Orlais._ She pulled away, gently.  “Let me put this away before I drop it.”

“I have arrows, fletched in Lydes, for the bow.  The fletcher will show you how to make them when we get home.”

“I’m tempted to go shoot now, but I’ll wait until tomorrow.  Denis thank you.  I love the gift.  Both that it’s a bow and that it’s a part of your heritage.”

“I just happened to bring mine.”  Denis grinned.  “We’ll have a competition tomorrow.”

“I might beat you.  Do you want your father to see that?”

“Absolutely.  I’ve been bragging about your ability for months.”

“You bragged about me?”

“Of course.”  He tilted his head.  “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Out of sight, out of mind?”

“Never, Lys.  You’ll never be out of my mind.”

Lys, unsure how to respond, said nothing.  As much as she wanted to dislike the man, she could not.  That, however, did not help her.  She still feared the place.

**9:30 Dragon 27 Guardian  ===  Castle Cousland, Eleanor’s Solar**

The Duc left a few days after the Name Day celebrations.

Wedding plans continued apace.  Pippa had not returned after the Landsmeet as she usually did.  Of course, Queen Anora had not replaced Lys, so Delilah, planning her own wedding, and Pippa must be quite busy.  Letters went back and forth between Arlessa Alys and Pippa and between the House Haris compounds in Denerim and Highever.  Arlessa Alys and Teyrna Eleanor had decided their daughters would not coordinate dresses or other items.  The weddings would take place one after the other.  In order to make it easier on the Chantry, the two noble weddings would occur on Summerday Eve.  This would allow the priests to perform the normal Summerday services and weddings with no distractions. 

Pippa wrote that Arl Howe wanted Delilah and Loghain married before Loghain left for Ostagar.  Loghain refused.  He doubted Duncan’s warnings and felt the Darkspawn would be turned back after a battle at Ostagar.  He told Arl Howe that he wanted a proper wedding for Delilah, not some hurried affair with barely time to spend together afterward.  No matter what Arl Howe said, Loghain would not change his mind.  Anora had supported her father, as had King Cailan.  Delilah had not stated her preference, which  Pippa took to mean that she agreed with Loghain. 

The muster King Cailan had announced at the Guardian Landsmeet also moved forward.  The nobles returned to their lands and sent out orders for their own vassals to provide troops to send to the King at Ostagar.

Lys gong along with all the plans felt helpless.  She and Fergus often exchanged baffled looks, wondering how everyone could exist in two entirely separate frames of mind at the same time.  The one time she had suggested postponing the wedding plans, Arlessa Alys had reacted angrily, telling Lys she should be in Denerim, serving her last few weeks with the Queen like Pippa, not bothering everyone in Highever with her negativity.  Teyrna Eleanor had crossed her arms and told Lys not to be difficult, but sought her out later to soften her displeasure.

“The baily is full of soldiers preparing for war.  How can anyone believe they will return before Summerday?  If our weddings take place, they will be in the privacy of the chapel.”

“Aunt Alys and others ignore the logic, Lys.  They hope the muster will be cancelled.  The Arlessa fears that the war will keep Guy at home and the wedding will be called off.  She’s upset that you’re here, but even more annoyed that Denis is here.  She believes your wedding will go forward war or no war, but that Pippa’s won’t.”

“What will it matter if we’re all dead.”

“Lys!”

“Mum, there’s a Blight.  Fergus believes Warden Duncan and so do I.  He’s not a fear monger.  Do you think I _want_ to see a Blight?”

“No, of course you don’t, but you need to be more sensitive.”

“Denis wants to ride with Fergus.  He has his chevalier plate, but he asked to wear our guard armor so no one would be alarmed.  Fergus told him no.  That he should stay here and help me run the Teyrnir.  Is that what Papa plans?”

“Yes.  He needs someone here, Lys.  He doesn’t want to risk both of you.”

“Then he should send me.”

“He can’t.  King Cailan ordered him to keep you here.”

“Right.  Wouldn’t want to spoil the wedding plans.”

“Lys, your father agrees.  Fergus has a son and heir.”

“Practical.”  Lys bit her lower lip.  “These are time times I agree with Aunt Liv and wish I’d stayed in Areth.”  Her lip twitched.  “Or that I had a gunship and could just fly over those monster and kill them all.”

“Well, that is not an option.”  Eleanor shook her head.  “Fergus said the same thing yesterday.”

Lys smiled.  “Well, at least you raised two bright children.”

“Maker, children is the right term when you’re like this.  Just be more careful when you speak of the weddings.  Please.”

Lys’ breath hitched.  “I will,” she said softly and turned away.

“Lys, wait.”

She stopped but did not turn around.

“What’s really bothering you.  It’s more than the wedding.”

“No, it’s the wedding and all that it implies.”  She turned back towards her mother.  “It’s…”  Lys began to speak then stopped and bit her lips.  “Oh Maker, you’re going to think I’m overly dramatic, but it’s like I’m burying Lys Cousland.  I liked Lys, but I haven’t been her in a long time.  I tried to be her in Denerim this past year, but it didn’t work.”

Her Mum surprised Lys by not smiling or making light of her remarks.

“I spent so much time as Layne Haris traveling, learning and working that, I didn’t realize I was losing Lys.  I like Layne.  She’s very disciplined, organized, insightful, good at her work, but I miss Lys.”

Eleanor patted the place next to her on the bench by the window.  Lys sat down, not sure what her Mum would say or do.  Eleanor put her arm around Lys and pulled her close. 

“I miss Lys too.  As infuriating as she could be, I miss the impulsive, emotional, brilliant little girl you were.”  She put a finger under Lys’ chin.  “Look at me Lys.  We all change as we mature.  You have learned to be quite…controlled, but Lys is still inside you.  She will come out again when your life settles down.  I suspect she did at times in Denerim?”

“I did organize music and dancing.  Even Loghain danced, but that was months ago.”

“Before Satinalia?”

“Yes.”

The sat quietly for a while, mother and daughter, arms around each other.

“You know those snakes we saw in Antiva?  The ones that shed their skins each year.  That’s how I feel.  Only I feel like all I’m keeping is the skin.  The body, the part that’s Lys, that’s me, I’m leaving behind.  I’m saying good-bye to everybody and everything I know.  I may never see any of you again.”

“Lys.”

“I’m not Lys and I’m no longer Layne.  This new person, Lady de Rievaulx I call her, she has a lot of Layne’s characteristics, but she’s becoming someone else.  Someone who can learn and play The Game.  Someone hard and cold and unfeeling and duplicitous.  I don’t want to become her, but I see no other way.”

Eleanor hugged her more tightly, kissing the crown of her head.

“I won’t be me the next time you see me, if there is a next time.  I’ll be some masked Orlesian caricature of me.”

“Lys.”

“I know, the Duc seems charming.  Denis seems to care about me.  I just don’t trust our impressions.  I fear they will all change once they have me in Lydes.  I truly wish Denis had gone home. 

“He stayed to be with you.”

“Did he?  Or did he stay to watch me.  I feel like he’s here to ensure I don’t run away.  And the bow…why didn’t he just buy a pretty necklace.  He can’t be that perfect Mum.  I find his staying here creepy.”

“Creepy.”

“Ominous?”

“I think part, no a lot, of what you feel is perfectly valid and normal.  I also think Denis is a good man.  We did investigate Lys.   No one disputes that the Empress wants this match, but I think Denis is what he appears to be.  I don’t think he planned on caring about you, but he finds he does.  Give him a chance.  You’ll fare better in Lydes with him as an ally or friend.  He seems to accept that you don’t care as much as he does.”

“He does.  We’re attracted…um…physically.” Lys glanced up at her mother through her lashes. 

“I would hope so.  Marriage would be difficult if you weren’t.”

“Mum.”

“Lys, I didn’t conceive four times through immaculate means.”

“I know, but….”  Lys giggled.  “Just not something I think about.  You and Papa hugging and kissing yes, but not other stuff.”

Eleanor laughed.  “Lys, give it time.  Lys, Layne, Lady de Rievaulx…they are all you.  They will always be inside you.  Someday you may find you’ve melded them together and come to care about, if not love, your husband.”

“I hope so.”  She pulled back and stared at her mother.  “Do you really believe that?”

“I believe it’s possible with this man, Lys.  That’s all we can do, believe in possibilities, take advantage of opportunities and hope for the best.”  She kissed Lys on her brow.  “Lys you don’t know that a marriage with Alistair would have worked out.”

“That’s my problem, Mum, I don’t know.  It would have been better had we met at seventeen and found we were still friends, nothing more or, maybe better, disliked who the other had become.  I’ll never know. It will always be a possibility.  A regret.”

“Sometimes good beginnings had bad endings and poor beginnings end well.

“Well, now you’re waxing too philosophical for me,” Lys said, but smiled.  “Thanks, Mum.  I should have talked with you sooner.  Kai was right.  Fortunately, she’s not here to gloat.”

Eleanor laughed and hugged Lys. 

“I wish she was.”  Lys mumbled.

“I know, dear, but you did the right thing I think.  Even if she could be safe in Lydes, she’s moved beyond being a simple ladies maid hasn’t she?”

“Yes.  I suspect being friends with an elf would be a step too far in Orlesian noble circles.  I’ll take Starfall and Sherpa, though.  Denis will make sure Sherpa stays safe.”

“Good.  I hoped you would.  Now, let’s go check on garden.  Everything is blooming.  You should see what herbs you want to dry and take with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. I hope you continue to read and enjoy. If you have time, reviews, short or long, are always welcome!
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eyes. Her astute comments improve every post. Any errors are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to those who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. Special thanks to those who reviewed or commented: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, ElyssaCousland, katdancer2, ChaoticHarmony1991, and SnowHelm. You inspire me and make me think. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback.


	64. A Call to Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:30 Dragaon - Guardian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world. Stories sometimes incorporate game dialogue, although not always in its original context. Either way, that dialogue belongs to Bioware. 
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

 

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 64: A CALL TO ARMS**

* * *

 

**9:30 Dragon  Guardian  ===  Denerim**

While Duncan prepared for the Landsmeet, Ser Jory and Taina spent their days, under Alistair’s guidance, at the warden compound or exploring Denerim.  They sparred, met the Denerim based wardens, and learned about darkspawn.  Ser Jory complained daily that they served no purpose sitting around Denerim when the darkspawn swarmed at Ostagar.  His repeated refusal to obey Alistair finally resulted in a long, serious conversation with Duncan.  After that, he cooperated grudgingly, but continued to complain.  He rarely joined Taina and Alistair when they left to explore the city.  Jory remained in the barracks or sparred with the other, older wardens.

Taina delighted in exploring Denerim and all things on the surface.  Alistair enjoyed playing guide, despite his limited familiarity with the city.  He inevitably got them lost.  Fortunately, their warden armor and Taina’s Carta attitude kept them out of serious trouble. 

“You’ve never been here before either,” Taina accused as they stood on the coast near a large estate gazing out over the Amaranthine Ocean.  A few ships dotted the horizon sailing south to Gwaren or north around the Amaranthine peninsula.

“No, I haven’t, but I’ve seen a map of the city.”

Taina gave him a sidelong glance.  “Yes, that’s been so helpful on our other explorations.  You had no idea where we were when we stumbled into the local Carta thugs in Dwarftown!”

“I didn’t even know there was a Dwarftown,” Alistair conceded.  “I doubt the dwarves would have bothered me.  They noticed your brand.  And your weapons.”

“Yeah, thought I was some kind of rogue Carta member since they didn’t recognize me.  Good thing I wore my Grey Warden tabard.”

“I’ve notice you wear it all the time now.”

“If it keeps us out of trouble, why not.  I don’t want Duncan calling me in for a special chat.” 

They both chuckled recalling Ser Jory’s face when Duncan singled him out for a talk. 

“I like the respect I get.  Even the merchants and smiths treat me good.  Not used to that, cloudhead.”  She brushed the front of her tabard, smoothing the wrinkles.  “Those thugs aren’t real Carta.  One of ‘em said the merchants and smiths created their own protection since the city guards don’t patrol Dwarftown.  Real Carta are all brands.  That group had exiled warrior caste, brands, and other surfacers.  Seems Duncan was right.  Castes don’t matter so much here.”  She crossed her arms and looked up at Alistair.  “That doesn’t change the fact that you got us lost.” 

Alistair flushed.  “Not all the alleys are on the map!  I do better in the countryside where I can find landmarks.  All the buildings in the city look the same.  I’m good at reading maps.”  He glanced at the estate to the north.  “I do know that the estate over there is Highever House.”  When Taina raised her eyebrows, he added, “Yes, that Highever.  It’s the Cousland estate.  They’re there or will be soon to attend the Landsmeet.”

“Your Assembly?”

“Um…yes, that’s a good comparison.  To continue with directions, the estate is to our north and the ocean’s to our east.”

Taina sniffed.  “Even I know the ocean is to our east.”

“Not always.  If you stood on the beach on that peninsula up there, it would be to your south.”

Taina looked at the faint line on the horizon that marked where the Amaranthine peninsula jutted out into the ocean.  Realizing Alistair was right she frowned and punched him. 

“Hey.  What was that for?”

“For being right, skyer.  Stone sense just doesn’t work here like it does in the Roads.  Have to learn…” she wrinkled her nose, “dirt sense.”

 “Dirt sense?”

“Yeah, directions, feel for where you are.  You should teach me to read those maps.”

“Why not air sense?  There’s air over land and sea.  Otherwise you’ll need to learn water sense.”

“Are land and sea sense the same?”

“Uh…well no.”

“Right, so for now dirt sense it is.  I’ll worry about water sense when I get on a ship.  Now I’m hungry, so you must be starving.  Let’s get back.”  A slow grin spread across her face as she gave him a sidelong glance.  “If you’re not lost, skyer.”

Alistair sighed.  “Not today, Taina.  Hunger drives good dirt sense.”

The warden and the dwarf formed an odd pair as they wandered.  They contrasted as woman and man, short and tall, brash and reserved.  For all his joking and chatter with people he knew, Alistair tended to reticence when in unfamiliar places or situations.  His time in the Denerim Chantry had sapped his confidence and taught him to be invisible.  They were lessons he had yet to unlearn.  Lessons that affected his leadership.  He knew, back at Dragon’s Peak, he had been more forceful with initiates and even his friends.  Now, he did fine when Duncan gave explicit orders, but tended to back off when challenged.  Jory sensed this and challenged him all the time.  If Taina didn’t back him up, he knew Jory would just ignore him despite Duncan’s orders.  He looked over at the dwarven woman at his side.  She had become a good friend, much like Eryhn and Peryndel.  He grinned.  _I hope they’re in camp when we get to Ostagar.  Taina will fit right in with us_.  

On one of their jaunts to the city market, Duncan went along.  As they passed the Arl of Redcliffe’s estate, the Arl, Lady Isolde, Lord Conner and Bann Teagan came out of the estate attended by servants and retainers.  Alistair stepped back into the crowd, while Taina stepped forward to see the human nobles.  The Guerrins, turning north towards the Chantry, paid no notice to the market crowd gawking at the noble procession.

As he watched, Duncan felt a bump.  Once an adept pickpocket himself, he recognized the move as that of another cutpurse.  Without even checking his purse, he identified the culprit and gave chase.  Taina ran after him with Alistair following.  They wound through the crowded market towards a back street that curved around to the Chantry, but had several alleys that offered escape routes.  As the thief ran into the back street, three guardsmen stepped out.

“Sod it,” the young thief muttered.  “Damn guard has to pick this corner for their lounging today.”

As Duncan ran up, Guard Sergeant Kylon walked over.  “Well, Daveth, at it again?  I thought you would have left the city by now.  You know it’s the noose for you this time?”

“I’d starve if I left.  Dead either way.”

“Death?”  Duncan asked.  “He stole my purse, not my life.”

“Warden Commander?’  Sergeant Kylon looked at Daveth in disbelief.  “You cut the purse of the Warden Commander of Ferelden?  You are more stupid than I thought, Daveth.”

Daveth shrugged.  “Warden Commander of what?”

“Of the Grey Wardens, young man,” Duncan said.

“Oh.”  Daveth’s voice grew soft.  “Grey Wardens huh?  All of you?” 

Taina and Alistair had come to stand beside Duncan.  “All of us,” Alistair confirmed.  He looked at Duncan questioningly.

Duncan nodded.  “Daveth is your name?”

The cutpurse nodded.

“Daveth, I Duncan, Warden Commander of Ferelden, conscript you into the Grey Wardens.  You will accompany us back to the warden compound.”

Daveth opened his mouth, but quickly shut it.  _If it means I live, then why not_?

The guards began to protest, but Sergeant Kylon cut them short.  “Go with the Warden Commander, Daveth.  Apparently this is your lucky day.”  Kylon nodded at Duncan.  “Thank you, Warden Commander.  I hope you don’t regret this.”

“I doubt I will, Sergeant.  He’s quick, I suspect smart and good with his blades,” he looked at Daveth, “and maybe with a bow?” 

“Blades and bow,” the thief said warily wondering how Duncan would know he used a bow.  It was not a common skill for a city-bred man.  _But then, I’m not city-bred._   He gave Duncan an apprising look.  _Could he have noticed my accent?  Thought I’d got a Denerim one_.

“This is Warden Alistair.  He will be your immediate superior, Daveth.  He’s in charge of the warden recruits.”  Duncan’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the man who had five or more years on Alistair.  “You will obey him.  The dwarf is Taina.  She’s also a warden recruit.  I suspect you two will get along, if you settle in and obey.”

Taina nodded.  “Nice to meet you, Daveth.  Do what my friend Alistair tells you and we’ll get along fine.”

Daveth frowned seeing the brand.  “Carta?”

“Not anymore.”  She smiled.  “But I haven’t lost my skills.”

“Right, so where is this compound?”

“I’ll take him back, Warden Commander, if you have more to do.”

“Thank you, Alistair.  Taina, please go with Alistair.”

Taina grinned.  “Got it boss.”  She looked at Daveth.  “Oh, Ser Jory will love you even more than he loves me.” 

Alistair burst out laughing.  “Let’s go, Recruit Daveth.”

Daveth looked from the tall human to the grinning dwarf and shrugged.  “Better than the noose.” 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Taina and Daveth sat in the dining hall at the warden compound sipping ale. 

“So what’s his story?”

“Ser Jory?”

“Nah.  I get him.  A tourney knight who’s too good for the rest of us.”

“Tourney knight?”

“Yeah.  A knight who specializes in winning tourneys, but who hasn’t fought in any real battles.  He can watch other knights and figure out their fighting habits, but put him in battle where everything is unpredictable and he’s lost.”

“So you’re an expert on tourneys?”

Daveth wrinkled his nose, squinting, “No, but I heard about them.  The other one’s a tourney knight too.  Conscripted at the big chantry Tourney last Solace with some other Chantry knight – a girl.”

“So you think he’s no good?  And what’s wrong with a woman?”

“I don’t mean nuthin’ by it, Taina.  We sparred today.  You’re good.  I don’t know about him or the girl.”

“I do.  He’s good.  And he’s fought darkspawn along with the girl. Her name is Warden Eryhn.  I haven’t met her, but I know she’s fighting darkspawn at Ostagar right now.”

“Fine.  Fine.”  Daveth held up his hands.  “Didn’t mean to offend, Taina.  He’s just…odd.  Like he takes charge sometimes and asks us all to agree to his orders other times.”

“He’s new to leading us.  There’s only been…well, me, until Jory joined us in Highever.  Jory’s a nug humping bronto’s ass who barely obeyed Duncan and gave Alistair a hard time until Duncan set him straight.  Give Alistair a chance.  I’ve traveled with him for two months now.  He’s a good man.”

Daveth considered Taina’s comments, staring at her as she swallowed more ale.  “I’ll give him a chance then.  I suspect you don’t give your respect easily.”

“I don’t.  He’s earned it.  Jory hasn’t.  And I’m still deciding about you.”

 “Fair enough, Taina.  Shouldn’t stop us from sparring tomorrow, right?  Then maybe we can pay a visit to the Market?  Duncan gave me an advance to buy supplies.”

“Long as all you’re doing is buying.  Duncan meant it when he said no purse snatching.  You take one purse and even he won’t be able to keep you from the guards.”  Taina’s eyes narrowed.  “And don’t think I won’t notice.  I could steal more than you any day and then snatch everything you took to top it off.”

Daveth laughed.  “Is that a challenge?  Because I’ll take you up on it!”

“Not here you won’t, but maybe somewhere else.”

**9:30 Dragon  7 Guardian  ===  Denerim**

“You don’t seem anxious to go to this Council Meeting, Da.”  Fergus joined his father in the study where the Teyrn pushed aside a stack of parchment.

“I’m not, Fergus.  Yesterday’s meeting ended in shouting and acrimony.  Arls Wulff and Neruda came to demand more troops to protect the South.  Howe supported them.  What’s worse, he offered to send some of his forces to their aid.”  Bryce shook his head.  “He said he would pass by Highever and take along whatever _spare_ troops Arl Broughten and I could provide.  As if we were withholding troops.”

“You didn’t object?”

Bryce snorted.  “Of course I objected.  He backed off.  Apologized.  Agreed we had to develop a broader strategy.  The usual obsequious act he adopts when I call him on disrespectful conduct.”

“I doubt he means a word of it.”

“He’s a vassal, Fergus.  Along with Arl Philip, our most important vassal.  He needs to act like one, but being overly harsh won’t gain good results either.  We fought together.  That creates bond.  Better to rely on that than harsh words.”

“I’ll take your word for it.  Was anyone else asking for help yesterday?”

“Bann Ceorlic.  He’s worried and he has a point.  If the darkspawn break out of Ostagar, they’ll hit Lothering and the Southern Bannorn next.  He cornered me in the Gnawed Noble last night with his concerns.  Says Loghain won’t listen.  Alfstanna was there too.  She has a wait and see attitude, but we’ve had no effects in the North.  Franderel and Bann Loren don’t seem worried, but Leonas and Sighard push for a muster.  The whole South wants more troops at Ostagar and more wardens.  King Cailan is listening.  Loghain thinks the southern nobles exaggerate the danger.  He will have to abide by the decision of the Landsmeet.

“Today, Warden Commander Duncan will join us in council to discuss the darkspawn threat and his recommendations.  There’ll only be the Small Council, but I don’t expect it to go any better.  Loghain has his own pet topics.”

“The darkspawn weren’t the only topic yesterday?”

“No.  Loghain ranted about Orlais and Orlesian plots.  It’s as if he thinks the darkspawn plot with Orlais.  Empress Celene may be charming and ruthless, but she’s not the Archdemon.” 

Fergus chuckled.  “Does Loghain disagree?”

“He might.  Loghain shifted his focus from Eamon to me as the primary Orlesian collaborator.”  Bryce shook his head, a sad expression on his face.  “I don’t know what to make of it.  He’s like a different person from the man who spent Satinalia with us.  He was unhappy with Lys’ betrothal, but not belligerent  about it.  He all but named me a traitor.”

“Lys mentioned he had changed.  She said Anora worries about the anger and belligerence, as you called it.  He and Cailan argue constantly.”

“That was obvious yesterday.  Cailan had no patience with him.  Anora tried to placate him, but had little success.”

“And Eamon?”

“Kept quiet, but couldn’t keep the self-satisfied smirk off his face.  He’s hoping I’ll retire in disgrace again.  He thinks it will allow him regain his influence over Cailan.”  Bryce stood and nodded to a servant to bring him his cloak.  “I should go.” 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Bryce entered the Council chamber behind Arl Eamon Guerrin.  The council members stood behind their chairs waiting for the king and queen to join them.  Finally, King Cailan and Queen Anora entered.  Cailan took his seat at the head of the table with Anora to his right and Chancellor Guerrin to his left.  Teyrn Loghain, as General of the Army, sat next to Eamon and as far away from Anora as he could to avoid her concerned glances.  Teyrn Bryce, as Foreign Minister, took his place to Anora’s right, in the place Loghain would have chosen in the past.  No one else attended.  The King did not want to further alarm the Bannorn until the Council had agreed on what actions would be brought before the Landsmeet for a vote.

Seneschal Laurens escorted Duncan into the Council Chamber, announced him, and then left.  Duncan bowed to the group.  He remained standing in front of the council members.

“Your Majesties, Arl Eamon, Your Graces,” he began.  “King Cailan requested I present the situation, as I see it, in the South before I request increased aid.  The Wardens of Ferelden, under my command, fight the darkspawn from our base at Ostagar.  We fight with the help of Maric’s Shield.  Over the past two years, we have come to value and respect Fereldan assistance.”

“How many wardens do you have, Warden Commander?”  Eamon asked.

“Five here in Denerim, twenty at Ostagar and three recruits.  I hope to have two or three more recruits by the end of the month.”

“So few?”

“Recruiting is not always simple, Your Lordship, but perhaps we can discuss those difficulties another time?”

“Yes, Eamon, let Duncan finish.  He has what he has.  We can’t change that now.”  King Cailan crossed his arms and leaned back to listen.

Duncan nodded to King Cailan.  “Thank you, Your Majesty.  The darkspawn threat, despite our efforts, does not diminish.  It increases each spring.  This year it has become unmanageably large.  We do not have enough forces to stop the darkspawn from spreading out of the Wilds.  Arls Wulff and Neruda can attest to the increased activity and have helped, with their own forces, on our eastern and western flanks.”

“And yet you have only five more recruits?  That seems a paltry number,” Loghain scoffed.

Duncan shrugged.  “Our reputation as fierce fighters is not unearned, Your Grace, but we cannot defeat the darkspawn alone.”  He hesitated looking at each person sitting before him.  “This is a Blight.”

This pronouncement did not surprise Bryce, although he still wanted more proof.  It seemed Anora and Cailan had heard it already as well, given their quiet acceptance Duncan’s remarks.  Bryce looked at Eamon and was surprised to see he looked almost pleased.  _Why would a Blight please him?_   Loghain on the other did not take it well.

“We have seen no evidence of that!” he said, bringing a fist down on the table.  “I’ve been to Ostagar.  I get reports from our commanders.  There has been no sign of a dragon in the Wilds much less an Archdemon.”

Duncan held up a hand, silently requesting the king to allow him to respond.  “You are correct, Teyrn Loghain.  The Archdemon has not shown itself.”

“Then how can you know?  Where’s the proof?”

“I cannot provide proof to you.  As a Warden-“

“-ah, of course, a warden just knows.  So now you will send for the chevaliers?”

“No, Teyrn Loghain, I ask Ferelden to muster their forces to assist us at Ostagar.  That is my request.  I ask Fereldan forces to support the Fereldan wardens in combatting the Blight.”

“And I agree with Warden Commander Duncan.”  Cailan announced.  “I will ask the Landsmeet to agree to a Call to Arms.  I want our troops in Ostagar by 25 Drakonis.”

“What!  You have not discussed this with me,” Chancellor Eamon said.  “That provides too little time.  You don’t understand the complexities of a Call to Arms, Cailan.”

“Oh and you do, Eamon?  When was the last time you fought?  As I recall you spent the Rebellion in the Free Marches.”  Loghain spat the words, leaning forward towards his neighbor.

“Father!”

“May I speak, Your Majesty?”

Cailan nodded.  “Please Bryce.”

“Loghain, I too would like to see solid proof, but I also know that wardens have a special sense about these things.  Warden Duncan believes this is a Blight.  Can we afford to ignore his warnings?  What do we lose by sending our troops to defend our country?”  Bryce shifted his gaze to Eamon.  “And Eamon, I can raise our army and reach Ostagar by 25 Drakonis.  It will be difficult, but we can do it.  I suspect Loghain can do the same.” 

Loghain gave a grudging nod.

“If you need help, Eamon, I’m sure Arl Wulff will assist you,” Bryce continued.  “Teagan as well.”

Cailan’s lip quirked upward as Bryce spoke to his uncle.

“So again, what do we have to lose?  Let Duncan present his request to the Landsmeet with King Cailan’s support.  Let the Landsmeet discuss it.  Let the southern nobles tell of their experiences.  Let the Landsmeet decide.”

Loghain snorted.  “Always the diplomat, Bryce.  Always the silver tongue.”

“Father, Teyrn Cousland makes sense.  This is a decision for the Landsmeet.  Can we agree to Teyrn Cousland’s recommendation?”

Arl Eamon shifted in his seat, sending a glare across the table at Bryce.  “Warden Commander Duncan should present his case, but I doubt the Landsmeet will find it acceptable.  They will want more time and assistance.  At the least, we should allow the Orlesian wardens-“

“-Ah, and now we have it.  A scheme to get Orlesian chevaliers into Ferelden.”  Loghain shouted.  “Have you turned traitor Eamon that you advocate inviting our enemies into our lands?”

“I am no traitor, Loghain Mac Tir.  I resent-“

“-Enough!”  King Cailan stood and looked at his advisors.  “Warden Duncan has not requested Orlesian wardens.  We will decide whom to ask for help once the threat is better understood.  You should remember that requesting help from other wardens is warden business.  Duncan has assured me he would not request assistance without informing me, but it is not my place to approve his actions.”  Cailan looked at Loghain.  “I do reject bringing in chevaliers, Loghain.  Assistance from outside Ferelden is not under discussion here.  The decision before the Landsmeet is the issuance of a Call to Arms.  Each bann and noble must ask his vassals and neighbors to muster their troops and send them to Ostagar.”

“I support the Call to Arms, Your Majesty.  And the date.  I oppose chevaliers or any Orlesian forces entering Ferelden.  I think we should post troops along our border with Orlais to ensure none get through.”  Bryce sat back in his chair.

“Been done.”  Loghain said.

“What?”  Eamon half rose.

“Eamon, calm yourself.  I agreed with Loghain when he suggested securing the borders.  There are troops at all the passes.  They will remain there.”  Cailan stared at his uncle until Eamon looked away.  He moved his glance to the others at the table.  “Can we agree that Duncan will present his request as Teyrn Bryce suggested?”

Eamon nodded.  Anora and Bryce said yes.  Loghain scowled, stood, and, muttering his assent, left.

Anora started to rise.

Cailan shook his head.  “Let him go.”

“I’ll speak with him later, then,” Anora said her brow furrowed in concern.

“Your Majesty, are there any other nobles we should speak to before the Landsmeet tomorrow?  Arl Howe or Arl Bryland, perhaps.”

“No, Bryce.  Let’s let them talk it out during the Landsmeet.”

Bryce bowed his head.  “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

“Duncan.  Are you prepared to repeat your request tomorrow in front of the gathered nobility?”

“I am, Your Majesty.”

“Good.  Get here by mid-day.  Seneschal Laurens will escort you onto the floor.  I will introduce you and speak in your support.”

Duncan nodded and bowed.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Eamon sat at dinner toying with the roast quail. 

“Husband, what bothers you today?  You’ve been silent since returning from the Council.”

“Cousland.  Cailan hangs on every word out of the man’s mouth.  For once I agree with Loghain,” he almost chuckled at Isolde’s shocked stare.  “Loghain accuses him of having a silver tongue.  He does.  He mesmerizes the king and the queen.  He even had the Empress listening to him last summer in Val Royeaux.”

“At least the girl will be gone form the queen’s presence.  That will limit his influence at Court.”

“Yes.  And in Orlais, but not in our control.  Young de Rievaulx has a mind of his own, just like his father.  Worse, I hear he’s besotted with the girl.”

“As long as she’s in Orlais, we can reach her, Eamon.  The Couslands will fall out of favor and your star will ascend.  The trade deals he negotiated benefit Orlais, but he has been favored by the Empress for only one reason.  To get his daughter wed to an Orlesian.”

“You sound very sure of that.”

“I am.  I am not sure when or how, but Bryce Cousland and that bitch of a wife will fall.”

“Eleutheria?”

“Sometimes it’s better not to know too much, my husband.  Just be assured that Teyrn Cousland becomes unnecessary to Orlais, once the daughter is wed.”

Isolde looked at Eamon wondering if he had noticed her distraction, but no, Eamon focused only his own problems.  He would not notice her.  She sighed in relief.  His self-absorption proved beneficial at times like this.  He did not notice Connor changing.  Isolde had spoken with Eleutheria.  She hated trusting anyone with the knowledge that her son was a mage, but she could not find an apostate to train him on her own. 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Eleutheria, in response to Isolde’s request, had spoken with Marjolaine before the Guerrins left Denerim.  Marjolaine promised to watch for a viable candidate and send him or her to Redcliffe.  Sitting in her house after Eleutheria left, Marjolaine pondered where she would find an apostate trustworthy enough to tutor Connor Guerrin. _Howe has apostates working for him.  Perhaps he can provide one._   _Maker’s toenails this gets complicated._  

Marjolaine had begun to feel like the spider queen at the center of a complex web.  Most of her victims had no idea they were caught.  She played on Howe’s hatred and ego to control the Couslands.  He thought he had deceived her when he established his own ties with her forger.  In fact, she had directed the forger to work with Howe and helped him create perfect documents to discredit Bryce Cousland. 

Howe could be so useful because of his hatred of Orlais and his greed for power in Ferelden.  He had secrets too.  Ones she had not been able to unlock.  The source of his wealth remained a mystery as did the significance of his ties to Tevinter.  _He does not interfere with my plans, so learning his other secrets can wait._ Eamon, on the other hand, tended to overconfidence.  His hubris could destroy him and her plans.  Eleutheria had been told to fix the problem.

_“He must improve his relations with King Cailan,” Marjolaine instructed Eleutheria.  “See that it happens.”_

_Eleutheria had seemed confused.  “He is the King’s uncle.”_

_“My sources tell me that he treats Cailan like a wayward child.  King Cailan is grown.  Eamon must take him seriously to gain his confidence.  Teyrn Cousland and even Loghain treat him as a grown man.”_

_“I don’t see them together,” Eleutheria said._

_“Nor do I, but my informants do.  They all tell the same story.  The queen, the teyrns, and the other nobles treat King Cailan like a king.  Arl Guerrin treats him like an errant lad.  It infuriates the king.  He must stop.  You must convince Isolde to make him stop.”_

Teyrn Loghain had also become estranged from Cailan.  Her informants told her of angry rants and uncharacteristically paranoid behavior.  Even the queen found his behavior disquieting.  No one seemed to know the cause, but Marjolaine would not look a gift horse in the mouth.   

With Loghain at odds with Cailan and Teyrn Cousland out of favor again, assuming Howe’s plans came to fruition, Eamon could resume his role as Cailan’s main advisor.  This could only happen if he regained Cailan’s good will. 

Marjolaine drew her legs in and leaned forward, her chin on her knees.  Once he discredited the Couslands, Howe could become a liability.  She would have to find some way to discredit him too, but not right away.  Although, Howe might do himself in.  While the nobility may condemn Bryce Cousland as a traitor, they will not think well of Howe for carrying the message.  They may even find his carefully forged documents suspicious.  _I would hate to give up Marcel.  He’s such a talented forger, but he can be replaced._   Cousland had many friends among the nobility.  They might question Howe’s motives.  Marjolaine smiled.  Dissension among the bannorn and nobles could only work in Orlais’ favor.

Eleutheria remained useful as long as she held Isolde Geurrin’s confidence.  _Now I have a new lever to use with her._   Marjolaine smiled.  Isolde Guerrin had never told Eamon how frequently mages appeared in her family tree.  He would be shocked should he find out about Connor.  I need to find a pliable apostate soon.  One day Connor would find himself in the White Spire, but not right away.  This situation had too many possibilities to send the boy away prematurely.

Sometimes one part of her web threatened to collapse while she strengthened another.  So far, she had managed to keep the web intact.  She knew of the Sister in Lothering now tied to the Chantry by another former bard.  She knew she had lost the Theirin bastard to the wardens, but he would not breed so it was a win of sorts anyway.  And the Blight, even the Blight would be useful.  Eventually, Ferelden would need help and Orlais would be ready to provide it.

Only two things bothered her.  Rendon Howe was one.  Howe could be a loose cannon.  And Teyrn Loghain.  He had proved unreceptive to any solicitations.  Howe claimed he had influenced Loghain, by inflaming his natural hatred of Orlais.  Her sources told her the two men had become more friendly with the betrothal of Howe’s daughter to Loghain.  _It seems too simple an explanation._   _I do need to find out Howe’s secrets._   Loghain’s behavior benefitted her plans, but she did not like coincidences or trust luck.  Two loose ends, but she would tie them off.  She would not fail her mistress.

**9:30 Dragon  9 Guardian  ===  The Landsmeet Chamber, Denerim**

Cailan and Anora sat in the Landsmeet chamber as Duncan made his plea for recruits and troops to fight the darkspawn at Ostagar.  He spoke well, describing the increasing number of darkspawn and the increasing number of locations that had come under attack.  Arl Wulff, from West Hills, voiced his support.  The southeastern edges of his lands had suffered already.  Arl Neruda spoke up as well, reminding everyone that settlements in the Southron Hills had been attacked repeatedly over the past year.

A majority of Landsmeet banns and nobles voiced support for the Call to Arms, but before King Cailan could make the declaration, Loghain stood to speak.  Anora laid a hand on Cailan’s arm.

“Let him have his say, Cailan.  It won’t sway opinion against the muster.  He’s too angry.  He will only create support.”

Cailan settled back on the throne as Loghain began to speak.

“Lords and Ladies of the Bannorn, I have been to Ostagar.  Arls Wulff and Neruda speak truly.  Small parties of darkspawn have attacked their lands just as they have attacked the wardens and Maric’s Shield in Ostagar.  The activity has increased, but we have seen no Archdemon.  The darkspawn have not spilled into other areas.  They remain in the Wilds and they will remain in the Wilds.  The troops and wardens hold them and will continue to hold them. 

“We should aid the Southron Hills and West Hills.  I suggest we send detachments of Maric’s Shield to help protect the areas that border the Wilds.  The darkspawn move to the east or west because of the pressure we place on them from Ostagar.  If we guard the flanks as well as the center, the darkspawn will retreat into the Wilds and bother us no longer.  We should be vigilant, but this is not a Blight.

“We ignore the true peril by focusing all attention on the Wilds.  The true peril stands at our borders.  The true peril threatens our very existence.  The true peril,“ Loghain thundered, “are the chevaliers massed at our border with Orlais!”

Howe watched with some concern as Loghain continued to rant.  The nobles around him began to mutter as Loghain’s accusations became more bizarre.  He condemned Orlais for plotting with the darkspawn to distract Fereldan forces.  _I need to speak with Nicephorus.  He serves no purpose if no one believes his strategies.  His fears seem well established.  Perhaps we need to ease off before the king, or more likely the queen, decides he needs healing.  We don’t need some healer detecting blood magic and alerting the Chantry._  Arl Howe stepped forward to speak as the Landsmeet began to chatter among themselves.

“Fellow nobles, Loghain makes good points.  We listen to the Wardens at our peril.  We forget how wardens betrayed Ferelden in the past.  Wardens plan to betray Fereldans today.  Wardens brought chevaliers into Ferelden last year.  Wardens and chevaliers wait at our borders to assist us with a Blight that only wardens can sense.  Should we trust their words or are they just fortune-tellers bilking of our freedom?

“Loghain does hate Orlais, but his hatred does not blind him to the real threat.  Grey Wardens and Orlesian Chevaliers will use the Blight to pour into Ferelden.  They will not come to defeat the darkspawn but to re-impose the Occupation.”

“Then we should muster and protect our borders,” Arl Wulff shouted.  “Against both darkspawn and Orlesians.”

“Agreed,” Bann Sighard yelled.

“Gentlemen,” a quieter voice said, “can we make sense of these charges?”  Bann Reginalda stood at the balcony rail.  “Teyrn Loghain and Arl Howe correctly identify the Orlesian threat, but what is new about that?  Orlais is always a threat.  A threat we should take seriously, as it appears we have.  King Cailan and Teyrn Loghain have secured our borders.

“We cannot ignore the other threat.  The Darkspawn and the possibility of a Blight.  We should do as Arl Wulff recommended.  The king should issue the Call to Arms.  We should fortify all our borders and, if a Blight does threaten or the darkspawn incursion worsens, call in Grey Wardens from around Thedas to help.  Warden Commander Duncan can reach out to Nevarra, Ansburg, Antiva, and far off Weisshaupt for aid.  We do not need to rely on Orlais.  Let King Cailan issue a Call to Arms.  Muster our army at Ostagar.  Let Duncan call to the rest of Thedas for aid.”

“That makes the most sense,” Arl Bryland said.  “Plan for the worst.  If this is a Blight, we will be prepared.  If not, we will block Orlais and defeat the darkspawn in the south.”

Eamon Guerrin stood and spoke as the King’s Chancellor.  “Arl Bryland and Bann Reginalda speak sensibly.  Muster our troops, protect our borders, and drive the darkspawn back into the Deep Roads.  Until we know this is a Blight, and not an unusually large darkspawn incursion, we should fight our own battles.

“At the same time, we must maintain our good relations with our neighbors, all of our neighbors.  If this is a Blight, we will need to take what help is offered.  ”

“Ah, Eamon, you would bring Orlesians into Ferelden to fight imaginary Archdemons.”

“That is not what I said, Teyrn Loghain.  I said-“

“-you said if.  Careful as always, Eamon, to cover your true intention.  Somehow the if will become when...when the Archdemon appears, when we see the dragon flying over Redcliffe, or Rainesfere or,” he looked at Bryce Cousland, “Highever.  When that happens you will want to run to Orlais for help.”

Teyrn Cousland stood.  “For the record, I have not seen a dragon of any sort over Highever.”

The nobles laughed.

“No.  Only Orlesian bridegrooms and Ducs,” Loghain snapped.

Bryce looked at his old friend.  “Yes, a few of those have been sighted, Loghain, although not in the air.”  He sat down as another laugh rippled through the chamber.

“My Lords and Ladies,” Eamon spoke again in an attempt to bring order to the Landsmeet.  “His Majesty, King Cailan will speak now.”

Cailan stood.  “I have heard the arguments.  I agree with Teyrn Loghain.  We will not tolerate chevaliers in Ferelden, nor will we turn away help from wardens, whether Orlesian, Nevarran, Anders, or Antivan.  Duncan speaks true.  A growing number of darkspawn infest the Wilds south of Ostagar.  Others speak true when they say our troops have sighted no dragon, no Archdemon.  Duncan provides no hard evidence of a Blight, however, I give credence to his testimony.  Therefore, I do issue a Call To Arms for a muster of Fereldan troops as of this day, 9 Guardian in the 30th Year of the 9th Age of the Dragon.  All troops to be present at Ostagar by 25 Drakonis of this same year. 

“I also ask that the Warden Commander of Ferelden  request help from other Grey Warden posts.  Orlais may be mustered and ready, but posts in Nevarra can sail as quickly across the Waking Sea to Jader or Eremon and join our fight.  Duncan?”

“I can send to Cumberland, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you, Duncan.”  Cailan surveyed the nobles and banns gathered before him.

“I ask that anyone who can muster more quickly and arrive at Ostagar sooner, do so.  Teyrn Loghain and I will ride to Ostagar by the end of Guardian with more companies of Maric’s Shield.  Chancellor Guerrin, you will return to Redcliffe to muster your troops and assist the banns surrounding your Arling to muster theirs.”  Eamon nodded.  “Queen Anora will remain in Denerim and administer the kingdom in my name.  We will defeat these monsters in glorious battle.”  Cailan surveyed his nobles.  “For Ferelden!” he shouted. 

The Landsmeet echoed his Call to Arms.  “For Ferelden.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

In the next weeks, the nobles returned to their estates and issued their Calls to Arms to their vassals and neighbors.  Arls Howe and Guerrin returned to their keeps, but pursued their own plans in addition to issuing the Call to Arms.  Eamon left his brother, Bann Teagan Guerrin, in Denerim at the estate.  Howe left Thomas at Amaranthine House and Delilah at Court.  Loghain continued to refuse an early wedding, much to his annoyance.  Delilah had orders to change his mind by any means.  Howe wanted them married before Loghain left.

Bryce and Fergus returned to Highever.  Bryce shrugged off Loghain’s comments, but Fergus remained uneasy.  He had always gotten along well with Loghain, but this man was not the one he had known for years.  He would face an anxious Lys when they arrived at Castle Cousland.  While he liked Denis, he did not want to see Lys in a marriage she did not want.  It seemed everyone around him had problems he could not fix.  He fantasized about running off to Antiva with Oriana and Oren and living happily without Orlesian plots and Fereldan Court intrigue. 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

In Jader, the Orlesian Warden Commander Montargis met with Grand Duc Gaspard de Chalons.  Both wanted to invade Ferelden immediately in the guise of providing aid against the Blight.  Empress Celene ordered them to wait until the Fereldans requested aid.  The Empress preferred to reclaim Ferelden as the savior not the conqueror.  Gaspard did not agree and Montargis fretted about the Blight spreading, but they waited as ordered.  

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Duncan returned to the warden compound and called Alistair and the recruits together.

“The Landsmeet declared a Call to Arms.  Fereldan’s army will muster and move to gather at Ostagar by 25 Drakonis.  We must move as well.”  He looked at his three recruits.  “I have two more recruits to gather.  I will need to return north.  Alistair, you will take Ser Jory, Daveth, and Taina to Ostagar.  The West Road should be clear.  You know the route.  Continue through to Lothering and then turn south.”

“We won’t gather-“

“-not this time.  We’ll conduct the training exercise once I arrive with the two recruits.”

Alistair nodded.  “I’ll see we all get to Ostagar.  Will we ride or walk?”

Duncan thought for a moment, considering the recruits.  “Walk.  Take pack mules to carry the supplies.”

“Walk,” Jory said.  “All the way to Ostagar!  I won’t-“

“-yes, Warden Recruit Jory, you will.  The mounts will be needed for the troops.  You four have more than a month to get to Ostagar.  You don’t need mounts to speed you along.”

“Hear that Sir Knight?  You can waddle along in your armor and you won’t hold up anyone.” 

Taina chuckled and Duncan held back a grin.  Alistair shook his head.  _I don’t look forward to herding those two._   He glanced at Taina who grinned and shrugged.

“I got your back, skyer.”

Alistair grinned back.  “Good to know.”

The three recruits, herded by Alistair, headed off to the practice yards while Duncan returned to his study.  _I can write to Cumberland from Highever.  I’ll send it on a Haris ship from there.  That will be quicker._   He looked through his other correspondence.  A letter from Riordan and one from Montargis.  _What do they want now?_

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Cailan joined Anora in her apartment after dinner.  They finally had a quiet time to spend with Elin before Elspeth put her to bed.  Cailan crawled around on the floor, hiding behind the settle, chairs and chests as Elin tried to find and catch him.  Anora bit her lip as she watched her husband and daughter play _.  Why does he insist on going to Ostagar?  He’s right, it inspires the troops, but how far will he go to do that.  Glorious battle indeed.  Father and Maric never described battle as glorious._

A week later Anora met with her father and Cailan in the king’s study.  She hoped they could escape the meeting without another argument.  She believed she had convinced her father that Cailan had not been spending his nights at the Pearl.  Cailan had not complained of Loghain chastising him in several days. 

At this meeting, she had a different request.  “Cailan, I have an awkward request.”

“Awkward?  What is it?”

“I would like you to declare me your regent while you are gone…and…regent for Elin should she require one.”

“Regent?  For Elin?  Why would Elin….you think I will die?”

“No!  I pray you will return to us, but Cailan, it is a war.  I plan for the worst, if you will.  I certainly hope for the best.”

“And you agree with this Loghain?”

“Yes, while you’re away leading the army.  I know you said Anora would rule in your stead before the Landsmeet, but it should be in writing, as well.  Even your father assigned a regent when he…traveled.  If there’s to be a regency for Elin, however, there should be more than one regent.  Anora should be one.  I should be the second-“

“-Bryce Cousland should be the third.”  Anora finished for Loghain before he could suggest Howe.  “The North and South are represented, peaceful trade and the army and Elin’s own interests.”

Loghain crossed his arms, but refrained from speaking. 

Cailan frowned.  “I need to give it some thought.”  He stared into the fire.  “Shouldn’t Eamon be part of this discussion?”

“No.  He will say it’s not necessary.  Or worse, insist he be sole regent..  You know that.  Then he will act in your stead and block me at every turn.  Is that what you want?  He will undermine me and through me, your daughter.”

Cailan leaned on the mantel, his head against his arm.  

“I have the declaration Maric signed, leaving father as his regent in the past.  It would provide a model.”

Cailan took the old parchment.  “I’ll speak with Seneschal Laurens.”  Before Anora could object, he added, “confidentially.  He can have the appropriate documents drawn up for me.  I need to think about how to tell Eamon if he’s not to be one of the regents.  I’m surprised you haven’t had the documents drawn up already, Anora.”  Cailan said with no hint of amusement in his voice. 

“Cailan, I would not overstep.  I needed to raise the concern, but, as you say, the decision is yours.  There are a number of nobles you might chose to work with me.  I would only ask that you not include Eamon…or Arl Howe.”

“Urien?”  Cailan asked. 

“Not my first choice…or tenth,” Anora replied.  “I would work with him if needs be.  Eamon and Howe…I simply do not trust them, Cailan.”

“Let me think on it, Anora.”  He nodded, took the documents and left.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Cailan and Loghain left for Ostagar on 28 Guardian.  Seneschal Laurens had drawn up the document declaring Anora regent in Cailan’s absence, but Cailan had not signed it.  He still felt his declaration before the Landsmeet sufficed.  The unsigned declaration rested in his personal coffer with a second document.  That document did declare Anora, Loghain, and Bryce Cousland as regents for Princess Elin should the worst happen.     

The king and Anora had argued about the two documents the night before he left.  He did see why she needed the first when there had been no such document affirming her rights in the past.  Cailan pointed out that he had traveled to Orlais each summer leaving Anora in to rule in his absence with no formal document affirming her rights.  He had announced, in the Landsmeet, that she would act in his stead while he was gone.  Anora argued that in a peaceful Ferelden, she had not seen the necessity either.  Now, with a war, nobles could become restive and take advantage of adversaries’ weaknesses. 

In addition, Eamon had always accompanied him to Val Royeaux.  He had not remained in Ferelden to undermine her authority.  If nobles became restive, she would need a legal basis to take action.  His declaration to the Landsmeet would not be sufficient.  She also needed it to lead the Landsmeet, if he was still away in the fall.   

King Cailan relented and signed the second document establishing a regency for his daughter.  Princess Elin, as a child, needed even more protection until she grew up.  The Landsmeet needed to see a way clear to agree to a regency.  As he well knew, there would be no guarantee the Landsmeet would approve his daughter’s succession to the throne.  A written plan for the regency, with Anora and Ferelden’s two Teyrns as regents, would encourage them to do so.

“Thank you,” Anora stood stiffly, “at least Elin will be protected.”

“Are you saying I’m not protecting you?”  Cailan’s eyes grew wide.  “I’m protecting you and my kingdom.  Would you have me stay here and not lead my army?”  

Anora turned away from him and walked to the window.  _Yes.  Yes, I would, but the queen wouldn’t._   “No, Cailan.  You need to go.  And yes, you aren’t protecting me.  Your uncle will do his best to take over.  I’m your consort, Cailan, not the reigning monarch.”  She twisted her rings.  “He has never accepted me.  I’m-“

“Anora, you have ruled with me for almost five years.  Everyone accepts that.  They know you speak in my name.”

She closed her eyes and sighed.  “Only in your imagination, Cailan.  Please, sign the other declaration.  I don’t understand why you won’t.  Your father did it for my father.”

Cailan frowned.  _Why am I refusing to do this for her?  It is unnecessary, but it doesn’t hurt anyone._ He stood straighter and squared his shoulders.  _It’s time they listened to me.  Anora’s done far too much ruling in my name._ “Your father wasn’t queen or even Chancellor.  He had no official position, so it was necessary.  It’s not necessary now.  I’m not leaving the country.  I’m going to lead our armies to war to defeat these monsters.  I intend to win.  I intend to kill the Archdemon and end this once and for all.  If you didn’t need the declaration when I went to Orlais you don’t need it now.”

Anora turned to look at him.  _He won’t relent on this._   _I should stop arguing.  I know I’m right.  Eamon will take over and I’ll be relegated to figurehead status while Cailan’s gone.  The pretty queen sitting on the throne smiling.  He’ll probably insist I hold Elin in my lap to complete the picture._ She closed her eyes and shook her head.  _Why am I so afraid?  Duncan and his wardens know how to fight these monsters.  Father will be with Cailan.  He won’t allow him to do anything foolish._ She rolled her eyes upward. _Like kill the Archdemon himself.  Teyrn Cousland will be there too.  Cailan listens to him.  The Teyrn and Father survived the Rebellion.  They will all survive this.  Stop.  Stop thinking the worst._ She tried again, “Cailan, I don’t want to argue, but you leave tomorrow-“

“-so arguing is the best way to spend tonight?  Because it wasn’t what  I had in mind.  Maker, Anora, I signed the regency document for Elin, yet you continue to badger.  I don’t even want to be with you tonight.”  Cailan stormed out. 

Delilah found Anora quietly weeping some time later.  Cailan was nowhere in sight.  She had never seen Anora shed a tear in happiness, anger, or sadness.  Anora weeping, more than any other event of the past month, disturbed Delilah.

Delilah had withstood her father’s displeasure when she failed to convince Loghain to marry before his departure.  That it had been expressed in letters from Amaranthine and not in person helped. She had taught herself, most of time, not to care what Rendon thought of her.  Facing him, however, with the threat of physical punishment always present, could intimidate her.  Letters did not.

In spite of knowing it would anger her father, Delilah had not tried to change Loghain’s mind.  He seemed volatile enough without another cause for argument.  He wanted a proper wedding followed by a trip to Gwaren to introduce the new Teyrna to her people.  He owed it to Gwaren, he told her, after years of ruling his Teynir from afar and to her, if she wanted to rule beside him.  She and Loghain had developed a friendship of sorts.  She looked forward to seeing Gwaren and establishing a household there, far from her father.  She believed she and Loghain could make a good marriage.  She would not risk that to satisfy her father’s demands. 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Alistair, Taina, Daveth, and Ser Jory left for Ostagar on 19 Guardian.  Alistair led the group on the now familiar West Road.  His orders from Duncan instructed him to get his charges safely to Ostagar and then wait for Duncan to arrive with more recruits.  While they could not dawdle, they only needed to keep a steady pace through South Reach, the Bannorn, and Lothering  to reach Ostagar in two weeks.  Duncan had even suggested they take time in South Reach and Lothering and provided coin for them to stay at local inns.  The easy passage contrasted with his own trip as a recruit.  On that trek, they had moved quickly and fought their way through the Southron Hills facing tainted animals, destroyed villages, and darkspawn.  As he looked at the recruits, he wondered which would survive the Joining.  He had not gotten close to Ser Jory or Daveth, but Taina had become a friend.  He understood better the distance Duncan maintained.  It had to do with more than command presence.

Duncan headed north again.  He planned to stop in Highever for a second recruit before continuing on to the Circle Tower.  He moved quickly, by passing Vigil’s Keep and Amaranthine as wastes of time.  If the timing worked, he might travel with some of Teyrn Cousland’s forces as far as the Circle Tower. 

Alistair’s group noticed the increased traffic on the road, as each bann sent his small contingent of troops to gather at the local Arl’s keep.  While they did not owe fealty to the Arl, the keeps at South Reach, Redcliffe and the Southron Hills provided convenient gathering points.  The troops proved friendly to the wardens, often sharing their camp.  At night, around the fire they asked questions about the unfamiliar enemy they would all face at Ostagar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. I hope you continue to read and enjoy. If you have time, reviews, short or long, are always welcome!  
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eyes. Her astute comments improve every post. Any errors are all mine.  
> Thanks to those who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. Special thanks to those who reviewed or commented: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, ElyssaCousland, ChaoticHarmony1991, and SnowHelm. You inspire me and make me think. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback.


	65. The Muster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:30 Dragon Drakonis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world. Stories sometimes incorporate game dialogue, although not always in its original context. Either way, that dialogue belongs to Bioware. 
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

"Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 65** **– THE MUSTER**

* * *

**9:30 Dragon  25  Guardian  ===  Castle Cousland, Highever**

Starfall dodged clumps of soldiers as Lys rode through the bailey.  Highever guards wore lance and teardrop crests on their shoulders, knights bore shields with Cousland laurel wreaths, and leather clad archers bore crests from across the Coastlands.  The troops had begun to arrive within a week of the Call to Arms sent out across the North by her father.  Now tents covered the fairground between the city wall and the castle.  Horses grazed on the grassy expanse between the castle and the sea.  More troops assembled near West Hill bannorn.  They would join the Higheverport forces en route and go to Ostagar together.

In the east, Arl Howe assembled his own vassals on the Feravel Plains.  Once Howe arrived at Castle Cousland, the combined army would march for Ostagar.  Her father, Arl Broughten, Fergus and Arl Howe would ride together to support King Cailan.  The combined army of the North would provide a substantial portion of the King’s forces.

While waiting for all the Cousland vassals to assemble, the castle guard trained detachments from across the Coastlands to work as one army.  The Highever and Cousland guards trained together regularly, but additional troops from the bannorns needed to become a part of that force.  Led by Fergus and the Guard Commanders, officers drilled the combined forces.

Today Lys had worked with a group of horse archers, drilling them to attack as a single unit and honing their skills. How the horses would react to the sight, smell and sound of darkspawn made everyone unsure if normal tactics would succeed.  _It’s not as if we had a score of darkspawn to build the horses’ tolerance,_ Fergus complained.   They feared horses would not fare well in frontal attacks on darkspawn, but she and Fergus believed the horse archers could harry the flanks with good results.  The key would be well-trained troops and well controlled mounts.  Lys’ time training and riding with Hrothgar’s Wrath paid off now.  Fergus and Highever Guard Commander Eynion commended her after observing the troop ride, wheel and shoot. 

Although she hid it well, Lys’ anger at being left behind still rankled.  She had the skills, the knowledge, and the desire to lead.  The troops responded well to her command.  Yet, her father planned to leave her behind to manage the teynir.  Her mother and Oriana were more than capable of governing, but no, her father insisted she remain as well.  He, Arl Broughten and Fergus would lead their troops south.  She and Denis would remain here.  Her wedding would take place, as planned, on Summerday Eve, whether or not he and Fergus had returned. 

Once wed, Denis expected they would sail to Orlais, leaving her Mum, Oriana, and Oren behind.  That, she had decided, would not happen.  Denis could return to Orlais if he chose, but she would not.  She would stay until the darkspawn threat had been defeated and her father and Fergus had returned. 

**9:30 Dragon   Guardian  ===  Vigil’s Keep, Amaranthine**

In Amaranthine, Captain Lowan assured Arl Howe that the troops were ready.  He had removed any potential dissidents, as Howe had ordered.  The remaining force looked forward to their immediate mission.  Lowan had revised their plans to fit the new situation.  The Call to Arms made troop movements much easier.  There would be no need to hide part of the force.  All they needed to do was arrive after the Teyrn’s troops were several days march away from Castle Cousland.

Howe’s own special guard, the Vigil’s Shield, now numbered seventy-five.  Lowan had recently added twenty-five more troops, all mercenaries.  If events went as planned, the Couslands would billet the Vigil’s Shield troops in the castle and keep’s barracks. 

Once assured of his troops’ readiness, Howe met with his magisters.  Magister Demetrius would remain at Vigil’s Keep.  From there he would maintain contact with Nicephorus, oversee the orphanage, and conduct the slave trade to Tevinter.  Nicephorus would return to Denerim in his role as Howe’s notary. 

The coven of blood mages would continue to function in Denerim’s warehouse district under Nicephorus’ guidance.  The underground base, in a derelict part of the city near the docks, remained undetected.  It connected to the underground passages that provided access to every important estate and building in the city.  Even the palace could be accessed, but only the lower reaches.  They had yet to find a way into the royal family’s living quarters.  Only the living quarters of Loghain’s estate had been breached. 

The blood mages continued to influence Loghain’s thoughts, but that would stop once he left for Ostagar.  Nicephorus had assured Howe that the effects of the blood magic, which were built on Loghain’s own beliefs, would continue for some time.  Given Loghain’s recent behavior, Nicephorus thought they had overdone the spell, but the effects would last longer once he rode out of reach.  Controlling without enthralling always posed problems.  He knew Howe hoped Loghain would do something foolish and get himself killed in battle.  If he survived, resuming the blood magic spell would have to suffice on Loghain’s return to Denerim.  In future, they would be more careful.

Magister Nicephorus continued to conceal his magic.  Even Thomas viewed him as nothing more than an annoying notary and spy for his father.  Howe, fearing Thomas would boast of his plans in a drunken display of bravado, kept Thomas away from the preparations at the Keep.  Thomas remained a disappointment.  He preferred to carouse with Vaughan Kendalls, who had recently returned to Denerim form West Hills leaving his wife at South Reach with her father.  Nicephorus had the unwelcome task of both advising and controlling Howe’s errant heir.

Unlike Arl Howe, Urien Kendalls left Vaughan as acting Arl, while he led the Denerim troops to Ostagar himself.  Vaughn had free run of his father’s city.  Howe expected he would cause trouble in the Alienage.  Howe and Demetrius believed they could take advantage of any disruption Vaughan Kendalls caused.  They tasked Nicephorus with watching and reporting on opportunities to expand their trade in elves.

**9:30 Dragon   Guardian  ===  Redcliffe**

Leaving Bann Teagan in Denerim, Arl Eamon, Arlessa Isolde, and Conner returned to Redcliffe.  Confined to his room with his nurse, Quilla, Conner’s magic could be hidden.  Quilla, a local girl with family on a nearby farmhold, would keep his secret and benefit from her service.  She had discovered Connor’s _gift_ and told the Arlessa.  Isolde had been impressed with her quick thinking and loyalty.  Instead of reporting Conner to the Templars, she had kept the secret and shielded Conner from detection.     


Mother Eleutheria, for she had been raised to that rank while they were in Denerim, had not heard from Marjolaine regarding an apostate tutor.  She promised Isolde that it would not be long before one was found.    In the meantime, Conner remained in his rooms or in the chapel with the priestess.  At nine, he had not yet begun martial training and Isolde was able to convince Eamon to put it off until after he turned ten in Bloomingtide.

Much to Isolde’s relief, overseeing the muster in the southwest took most of Eamon’s time and attention.  The Arl provided his tourney grounds as a campsite and practice field.  Arl Wulff promised to send as many troops as he could spare.  He and the surrounding banns already defended their own lands from random attacks.  As the troops gathered, Eamon received other visitors.  Riordan and another grey warden arrived by boat from the north along with two companions. 

Riordan and the other warden settled into rooms in the armory to await Duncan.  His other companions stayed in the castle posing as knights from Bann Teagan’s manor.  Teagan, in Denerim, had no idea that Eamon used his name and lands to provide cover to the Orlesians.

The four men had made use of Orlais’ strong ties to the dwarves.  Traveling a little used Deep Roads passage, they made their way through to Orzammar from Jader.  From there they came out behind the Fereldan troops guarding Gherlen’s pass.  Splintmail disguised the two chevalier captains.  Masquerading as sell sword knights in Bann Teagan’s employ, they could assess the Fereldan defenses and monitor troop movements along the border.  When the Fereldans recalled their border troops to Ostagar, as the Orlesians presumed they must, the two knights would carry the news across the border to their waiting brothers. 

The Orlesians believed a Blight threatened.  They would not allow it to spread into their homeland.  If a Blight enabled them to regain their lost province they would use it.  The Orlesians believed the Fereldans would fall to the darkspawn.  The chevaliers found the idea that a handful of Fereldan wardens and their small army could bring down an Archdemon laughable.  No Blight had been defeated by a single nation. 

If not to the Archdemon, then Ferelden would fall to the Orlesians waiting at the border.  Orlais would be ready to bring its forces to bear to defeat the Blight in Ferelden when the local troops failed.  With the Horde defeated, the Orlesians would take whatever was left of their lost province.

Eamon did not see abetting Orlais as treachery.  Instead, he thought Cailan a fool to trust to Loghain’s strategies, Duncan’s assurances of victory, and his own desire for glory.  He put no credence in Loghain and Anora’s assertions that Cailan would see reason and lead from the rear.  Cailan wanted to kill the Archdemon and fight alongside the wardens.  He would join them wherever they fought.  He had no doubt Duncan would allow it.  Duncan would never say no to the king.  He might try to reason with Cailan, but he would not demand he stay with the rearguard if Cailan insisted on leading the charge. 

Nevertheless, he had tried to convince Cailan to remain in Denerim.  Eamon knew his nephew’s foolish desire for glory would take him to the frontlines if he went to Ostagar.  Safety for Cailan dictated that he remain in the palace.  Eamon did his duty as Chancellor, but lost the argument with Cailan.  Cailan accused him of seeking glory for himself. 

_“Do you plan to lead in my place, uncle?”_

_“As your Chancellor, I would be in overall command following the battle plan you provide.  Loghain, of course, would control our battle strategy with Duncan and the wardens.  I seek no glory, Cailan, only your safety.  Ferelden needs its king.  The Crown Princess needs her father.”_

_“_ _Ferelden_ _’s armies need her king to lead them in battle, uncle.  You will stand by me, as will Loghain.  I will not be a coward and hide in Denerim.  You seek glory in my name.  If this is a Blight as Duncan claims, there will be glory for us all in its defeat.”_

Chancellor Eamon had given up.  Cailan would survive or not.  Plans existed for either contingency.

**9:30 Dragon   30 Guardian  ===  Denerim**

Marjolaine rested her back against the pillows at one end of the settle.  She stretched her legs out on the cushioned bench and covered them with a woolen blanket.  Even in Drakonis, the breeze off the Amaranthine Ocean could be cool and damp.  A fire took away the chill inside the small house she occupied near the market, but the soft wool provided comfort.  Outside, her dwelling’s  decrepit appearance belied its elegant and spacious interior.  In fact, the small hut like dwelling opened into the house next door.  Smoke from its chimney melded with smoke from the other houses on the cul de sac where it hung, hugging the rooftops despite the breeze.

Howe had returned to Amaranthine.  She missed their evenings together.  The man had proved an inventive partner.  She smiled, remembering.  Before he left, he told her that Bryce Cousland would not return to Denerim.  The muster, he said, gave him the chance to take care of the Cousland situation.  When she asked what that meant, he had just smiled. 

Now Marjolaine worried.  The girl and Denis de Rievaulx were not yet married.  Lord de Rievaulx was at Highever.  The wedding would take place regardless of the conditions in the South.  The Empress would be furious if those plans failed.  She hoped whatever Howe planned would not delay the wedding.  She wanted the Couslands out of favor again, once the girl and de Rievaulx were safely in Orlais.  Even better, she believed, if the family exiled themselves to Nevarra or Antiva.  Bryce was not malleable.  Eamon had proven his responsiveness to the Empress’ wishes time and again.

Orlais expected King Cailan to fail at Ostagar.  Unlike Eamon, they did not fear he would die.  The Empress and her advisors assumed King Cailan would retreat to Redcliffe, the strongest fortress in Ferelden, when his army fell to defeat at Ostagar.  They believed he would call his troops from the borders to reinforce his retreat.  When he did, chevaliers and wardens stood ready to step in.  Arl Guerrin, as Chancellor, would call to Orlais for aid as the Fereldans retreated and regrouped in Redcliffe. 

The Arl, with his knights, would wait at his fortress.  They would not travel to Ostagar, but would stand ready to aid the king as he regrouped his forces.  The Orlesian Grey Wardens, under Warden Commander Montargis, and the Chevaliers, led by Grand Duc Gaspard, stood on the border ready to cross the moment Arl Eamon requested aid in Cailan’s name.  They depended on the Fereldans weakening the darkspawn so that Orlais could sweep in, win the day, and remain to assist in Fereldan’s recovery.   

All the plans were in place in Denerim and Redcliffe.  With luck, Loghain would die at Ostagar.  If not, he would fall elsewhere,  her agents would see to that.  Marjolaine’s agents would also  restrain Queen Anora, Eamon would convince King Cailan to cooperate, and she would personally remove Crown Princess Elin to Orlais.  A betrothal to an Orlesian noble and an education in Orlais would complete the plan.  Princess Elin would succeed her father, bringing her Orlesian consort with her.  If that plan failed, there were always the future de Rievaulx children.  Perhaps a regency for their parents if they cooperated. 

Marjolaine shifted restlessly on cushions.  _What was Howe up to?  Could he know about Orlais’ plans?  He would try to foil them if he did._ Howe hated his liege lord as much as he hated Orlais, although he hid the depth of his hatred of the Couslands quite well. _Would he plan a rebellion in the face of a Blight?  No.  He was not stupid.  Surely, he could not defeat the Teyrn’s army.  He would only start a civil war in the North and that would be to no one’s benefit.  He wants the girl for his son, it’s true, but he left the boy here.  Kidnapping her and bringing her to Denerim for a forced marriage made no sense.  He would have the boy with him or at the Vigil if that were what he planned._

She had tried to infiltrate the Vigil, but that had not succeeded.  Howe’s seneschal, Varel, and his captain, Lowan, kept a tight rein on their subordinates.  They hired their sparse staff carefully.  Nothing leaked from the keep.  Only Howe’s trusted vassals and agents came and went through the well-guarded gate.  Whatever he planned, it did not include nobles outside of Amaranthine.

**9:30 Dragon   30 Guardian  ===  Royal Palace, Denerim**

Anora sat silently at the table in front of the great window in her apartment.  The east wing threw the garden below into deep shadow.  The sun had not yet climbed above the palace roof.  It was her quiet time.  Nurse Elspeth would bring Elin to her for another half turn of the glass.  Erlina had brought her warm herb tea, bread fresh from the ovens, thinly sliced ham, and sliced hard-boiled egg.  It was a simple breakfast, similar to those she had eaten as a child in Gwaren.  Today it provided comfort.

The day before King Cailan, Teyrn Loghain, Arl Urien, Ser Cauthrien, and the royal and city troops had marched out of Denerim for Ostagar.  In the south, Gwaren marched north through the Brecilian passage and Southron Hills.  The forces would combine at Ostagar. 

Anora, her ladies and most of the city had watched the army leave.  Her father, riding behind Cailan, had been grim, looking neither left nor right.  Cauthrien riding beside him had managed a nod and a smile for the queen as she passed.  Arl Urien had appeared distracted and unused to riding in formation.  King Cailan, leading the procession had grinned and waved eliciting cheers from the crowd.

_“_ _Maker, you would think he traveled to a tourney,”_ Anora had muttered.  Delilah had put a hand on Pippa’s arm, when she had opened her mouth to reply. 

Listening to the cheering, Anora thought that there must be some median between her father’s gloom and Cailan’s glory.  Anora had remained on the palace battlements and watched until the last trooper disappeared around the bend towards the western gate.  She, too, had smiled and waved, but not in the same blithe manner as Cailan.  _Does he really think glory awaits him?_

Anora felt tears brimming as she recalled the previous day’s events.  _I won_ _’t cry again.  I am the Queen and I will act like it.  This is my country and I will rule it whether Cailan thinks…._ She stopped.  _I know he thinks I can and should rule when he’s gone.  Why did we fight?  It seemed such a simple request.  Put your belief in my abilities on paper.  Say I am your regent while you are away._   She brushed away the tear that had trickled down on cheek.  _He made me regent should he die_.  _I should have accepted that as sufficient._   His good bye had been a light peck on the cheek and a squeeze of her hand.   _Perhaps I should have gone to him?  I never have.  He always comes to me to make up_.  

“My Lady, you’re not eating.  Shall I warm your tea?”

Realizing she was hungry and had a full morning schedule, Anora nodded her assent to Erlina.  Sprinkling a pinch of salt on the eggs, she placed the slices on the bread with some ham.  The bread, still warm, melded the flavors of the meat and egg together.  She closed her eyes, sighed, and imagined herself back in her mother’s solar in Gwaren.  A warm, comforting feeling washed over her.  She could hear her mother.  _Have faith, Anora.  Your Papa will be home soon._   She opened her eyes to see the sun creeping over the roof of the opposite wing, lighting the garden below.  _Have faith, Anora.  Your Papa and your husband will be home soon.  All will be well again._

**9:30 Dragon   30 Guardian  ===  Castle Cousland, Highever**

Duncan, traveling alone and on foot, moved quickly making the trip from Denerim to Highever in nine days.  He arrived in the Castle bailey during the afternoon.  Seneschal Mowry showed him to the same rooms the group had occupied on the trip from Orzammar. 

“I know you seek recruits, Warden Commander.  They may stay with you here until you leave, should your search be successful,” the Seneschal said.

“My thanks, Mowry.  It’s a comfort to return to familiar surroundings.”

Duncan unpacked his few belongings.  Items he used infrequently, like his shield, he had left in the warehouse in Denerim.  Things he would need at Ostagar, he had sent on with Alistair.  Two pack mules accompanied the recruits on their trek west.  Duncan smiled to himself.  Ser Jory’s face when he realized they would each take a turn in caring for the mules had been classic.  He shook his head.  All knights had to make adjustments when they came to the wardens, but few confronted it as gracelessly as Jory.  _I hope I did not make a mistake with that one._

That night an invitation came to join the Couslands and a few guests at dinner in the small hall.  Some banns had accompanied their troops to the muster at Highever.  They would dine tonight with their liege lord.  Most banns had sent their captains and soldiers while remaining in their holdings to see to the spring shearing, to re-open mines closed by snow, or to see to spring planting.  War magnified the need to ensure trade and farming succeeded.  Coin from trade would fund the army. 

Conversation at dinner ranged from trade, to the bounty of this year’s fleece and the latest discoveries at the mines.  The Teyrna steered conversation away from the muster and what might face the army at Ostagar.  Lady Cousland and her betrothed, an Orlesian nobleman, conversed easily on all topics.  That Melysande Cousland was at ease with her father’s liegemen and the teyrnir’s business did not surprise Duncan. He made it a point to be well informed about each noble and important bann.  The Orlesian nobleman’s ease with the company did.  It was not what he expected from a chevalier and heir to a duchy.

He had watched the pair spar earlier.  They both fought well.  Either of them would make a good recruit.  Unlike Orlais, few Fereldan nobles volunteered for the wardens.  One of the reasons he depended on Orlesian advice was the lack of education and knowledge among his own wardens, himself included.  He hoped Eryhn and Alistair, educated by the Chantry, could help fill the leadership gap, but he needed more options.  There are so few good candidates in Ferelden, but I dare not incur the Teyrn’s wrath or that of the Orlesians by conscripting these two.  He let his thoughts move on. 

Ser Gilmore had been away on his last visit.  The knight had caught his eye as a young squire some years ago.  As the second son of a minor bann, his family would not oppose his joining the wardens.   His skills had only improved in the Teyrn’s service.  It was time to make his move and recruit the young knight.  He had leadership potential as well.  Recruiting Gilmore should not take long and then he could move on to the Circle Tower.  He had several mages in mind and hoped to leave the Tower with at least two.

**9:30 Dragon   3 Drakonis  ===  Castle Cousland**

It took only a day for Duncan to decide that Ser Gilmore qualified.  Both a talented warrior and a pleasant young man, the knight would make a formidable warden with a good chance of surviving the Joining.  His father and brother had come to Higheverport with the troops from their bannorn, so good byes did not take long.  Duncan felt relieved.  He hated to deny anyone the opportunity to bid farewell to family, but there was no time for a trip to the coastal bannorn Gilmore’s father held.  He would have to forego goodbyes to his mother and sister.

Bann Rikart Gilmore, a pleasant man too old to go to war, seemed pleased that Duncan had chosen his Roderick. 

Duncan patted Ser Gilmore on the shoulder.  “Spend as much time as you can with your father and brother, Warden Recruit.  As long as everything you will carry is ready to go, you’ll have no duties until we leave.”

Duncan left the Gilmores and walked into the Great Hall of Cousland castle where Teyrn Bryce stood talking with Lord de Rievaulx, Lord Fergus, and Lady Cousland.

“I don’t know when he’ll arrive.  Another messenger came this morning saying the weather continued to hold them up.”

“What weather?  Days of torrential rains would have affected a wider area than the Feravel Plains.”  Fergus’ compressed lips and narrowed eyes revealed his skepticism.

“Maybe they’re marching along the road in squares to make sure their rear and flanks are covered,” Lys joked.  “Marching sideways and backwards can’t be easy.” 

Fergus rolled his eyes, but chuckled when he pictured Howe’s troops sidling down the road in squares.  Typically a defensive square consisted of four rows of troops set at right angles to each other to form a square with troops facing in all directions.  Normally they did not move. 

Denis smirked.  He enjoyed Lys’ sense of humor. 

“I could take a troop of horse archers towards Amaranthine and harry…sorry hurry them on their way.”

Bryce chuckled.  "Even if it is the best explanation I’ve heard, I suspect there’s a more reasonable one which we’ll hear when Rendon arrives.  And I don’t want the horse archers going to meet them!”  He gave Lys a stern look.

She shrugged.  “Would be a good exercise.  Howe’s troops could provide a good resemblance to darkspawn.”

Fergus snorted.

“Your Grace, My Lords, Lady Cousland.” Duncan said as he joined the group.

“Duncan.”  Teyrn Cousland greeted the warden.  “We’re delayed again, I’m afraid.  Do you want to wait or go on to the Tower or wait?”

“I’ll wait at least another day, Your Grace.  It will give Ser Gilmore time with his father.”

“Good of you, Duncan.  Rory is close to his family.  I’m glad Rikart and his brother, Cyndaf, are here to see him off.  Cyndaf rides with us, so he’ll see more of Rory on the road.”

“Have you found any other prospects, Warden Commander?”  Lys asked. 

“There are at least two.”

“Who?  Will you take them?”

“You and Lord de Rievaulx, My Lady.”

“You’re not serious, I hope, Warden Commander?”  Bryce stepped forward as if to shield Lys.  “You’re speaking of my daughter and the heir to the Duchy of Lydes.  My son and I ride south.  I don’t plan on giving up both of my children.  You’ll not use the Rite of Conscription on them I hope?”

“No, Your Grace.  I am not so foolish as that, I assure you.”

“Good,” Lys replied.  “I’d make a poor warden.  I don’t follow orders well, Warden Commander.” 

Duncan laughed.  “I had noticed the independent streak, Lady Cousland.  I assure you that can be an asset in a warden.”

Denis and Fergus began to laugh.  “Better shut up while you can, Lys.  You might change Duncan’s mind.”  Fergus said between chuckles.  “Then Da will have to lock you up to keep you safe.” 

Lys flushed, rolled her eyes, nodded to Duncan, and strode off.  Most eyes followed the tall, young woman in a long leather vest, leather breeches, boots, and gauntlets as she walked through the bailey to the armory.  Her dark hair had been pulled back and braided.  Her mabari trotted by her side. 

“Bow or blades,” Denis asked Fergus. 

“Oh, when she’s that annoyed and embarrassed, definitely blades and a dead practice dummy.”  Fergus, Denis, and Bryce all burst out laughing while Duncan just shook his head. 

Lys looked back at them, frowning.  _Idiots_.  Fergus knows becoming a warden is more dangerous than most know.  I should find Rory and say good-bye before I practice.

**9:30 Dragon  4 Drakonis  ===  Castle Cousland**

The next day two muddy Vigil’s Shield rode into the baily with another message from Howe.  Perhaps the Teyrn and Fergus could wait for him, he suggested, while sending their forces on ahead.  If all went better once they got past the storms, they would catch up to the main body at West Hill.

“Fergus, plan on leaving in the morning,” Teyrn Cousland said.  “You don’t need to wait for Howe.  I’ll stay.  Duncan can travel with you.  Maybe he’ll find another recruit among the West Hill troops.”

“Are you sure, Da?  This all seems…off, somehow.  Why would he be so delayed?  And that sounds like he’s giving you orders.”

“The delay does seem odd, even for Rendon.  As for the _suggestion_ , that’s classic Rendon.  He always sounds like he’s giving orders.  Maric used to bow to him and say _I hear and obey_ , when he suggested something to the king.”

Fergus chuckled.  “I bet Howe hated that!”

“I doubt he’s ever forgiven Maric.  He never appreciated his humor.  Nevertheless, he would be the most obsequious courtier for a week or two and then the old Rendon would re-emerge.”  Bryce grinned.  “It’s just his way.  Maric understood that.”

“So, you’ll get to stay extra nights in a bed.  I’m not sure I like this option, Da.”  Fergus grinned.

“I’m old for this, Fergus.  I deserve extra nights.”

“I’ll go let the troops know we leave at first light.”

“Who leaves at first light?”  Lys walked up to stand beside her father as Fergus left.

“Everyone but my personal guard and me.”

“Why?”

“To join the king at Ostagar.”  Bryce looked at Lys eyes wide. 

Lys compressed her lips trying not to smile.  “I mean why aren’t you going with them?”

“I’ll wait for Rendon.  He suggested the army not wait for him.  Thinks he can rest for a day here and then quick march his troops over the pass and catch up at West Hill.”

“Why stop here?  Why shouldn’t he just keep going.”

“His men should get one good night’s rest here after slogging through the rain.”

“Right!  Because they must be exhausted if they took a month to make a one week journey!”

“Enough, Lys.  You exaggerate.  We have a plan.  Your brother leaves at dawn.  Would you go and tell Duncan.  He’ll want to go as well, I think.”

“Of course.”  She stopped before she got to the door.  “Can’t convince you to let me ride with Fergus?”

“No.”

“Right.  Had to ask.”

“Lys, you won’t-“

“-no.  Once I would have, but I’m not that girl anymore, Papa.”

“No, Lys, you’re a fine young woman.”  He walked over to where she stood and pulled her into an embrace.  “I am so proud of you.”

“Love you, Papa.”

He kissed her brow.  “Love you too, Lyssie.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lys found both Rory Gilmore and Duncan in the armory.  To her surprise, Duncan had engaged Denis in a sparring match.  Or had Denis challenged Duncan?

“Lady Cousland,” Rory greeted her.  “Your betrothed is quite the swordsman.”

“So I see.  I’ve sparred with him, of course, but I’m afraid I don’t challenge him in the same way as Duncan.”  She leaned against the fence next to Rory to watch.

Sweat poured off both Duncan and Denis as they blocked attacks and then backed away from each other and circled.  Duncan used dual blades.  Denis used his chevalier sword and shield.  Equally matched in strength and skill, Denis thought his youth would trump Duncan's age.  He found his youth and height did not give him an advantage.  Duncan’s endurance, fortified by years of walking and fighting darkspawn, carried him through as Denis’ blows became weaker.  Finally, Denis yielded.

A crowd had gathered around the practice yard.  Soldiers, from all over the Coastlands, as well as Lys and Rory, watched the match.  As Duncan reached down to offer Denis a hand, the crowd began clapping.  Both men looked up in surprise.  

“It seems we had an audience, Warden Commander.”  Denis grabbed Duncan’s hand and jumped to his feet.  He bowed to the Warden Commander.  “Thank you.  That was the most challenging sparring match I’ve experienced in quite some time.  Shall we meet again tomorrow?”

“If I’m here, yes.  You offer me a challenge as well.  I’m not sure I’ll be recovered by tomorrow.” 

Lys walked up to them.  “You may not be here tomorrow, Warden Commander.  Fergus will leave with the army at daylight.”

“Howe arrived?”  Denis asked.

“No.  Papa will wait for him.  Papa and his personal guard will stay and ride with Howe’s troops if…no when, they arrive.”  Lys turned to Ser Gilmore.  “Congratulations to you, Rory.  I couldn’t find you yesterday when I looked.”

“Thank you, Lady Cousland.  I spent the day with Da and Cyndaf.”  Rory smiled at Lys.  “I’ll miss our sparring matches.”

“Me too.  You’ll meet good sparring partners in the wardens, won’t he Duncan?”

“He will, Lady Cousland.  Now, Warden Recruit, we should go get ready to leave in the morning.”

“Yes, Warden Commander.  Good-bye My Lady.  My Lord.”  Rory bowed.

“He’s a good man.”  Denis had walked up beside Lys.

“Yes.  He squired here for Papa.  He became a knight a few years ago.  He was my main sparring partner.  He didn’t coddle me.  I hope becoming a warden will work out for him.”

“You think it won’t?”

Lys shrugged.  “In a Blight?”

“Right.  Dangerous.”  He wiped his forehead.  “I need to go clean up.  I’ll see you at supper.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

At supper that night Lys and Eleanor tried to keep the conversation going.  Any banns still in Higheverport spent the evening with their troops not their liege lord.  Rory Gilmore joined his father and brother.  Only Duncan and her mother’s friend, Lady Landra, joined the Teyrn’s family for the meal.  Her son Dairren, a few years younger than Lys, would ride with the Teyrn as his squire.  Dairren had preferred eating with the other squires, rather than joining his mother at the Teyrn’s table. 

Lys noticed Dairren’s absence and Lady Landra’s copious wine consumption.  _Poor woman._   Bann Loren reputedly treated his wife badly, although she did not speak of it to Lys’ knowledge.  Lys inferred the truth of the rumors from her mother’s kindnesses to her girlhood friend and the fact that Lady Landra spent much of her time visiting friends or staying at their town house in Denerim.  Unfortunately, she also drank too much causing many of the banns wives to avoid her.  

Bryce alternated between distracted silence and teasing.  Of course, following Landra’s conversation could be difficult so Lys didn’t blame her father for not listening.  Fergus joked too much about traveling south into the cold and rain.  Oren focused on the fighting his father would experience and begged to begin his martial training, while Oriana tried to change the subject to more happy topics.  Denis sat next to Duncan and spoke with him about life as a warden.  Lys smiled to herself.  _He’s monopolizing Duncan so no one can ask him about the Blight or Ostagar._   Lys covered her mouth to stifle a giggle as her mother tried to make sense of something Landra said.  Eleanor gave her daughter a perturbed glance.

“Not one of your most successful dinners?” she whispered to her mother.

Eleanor sniffed.  “Hush!”  Then she laughed quietly.  “Too true, I’m afraid.  We’re all trying to ignore the bronto in the room.”

After dinner, Fergus and Oriana took Oren to their apartment.  Lady Landra retired to the solar with her embroidery.  Duncan returned to his rooms for an early night.  Lys, Eleanor, and Bryce joined Fergus and Oriana briefly, but soon left them alone to say their goodbyes.  Bryce and Eleanor returned to the solar, but Lys went to her room not in the mood to listen to Landra again.  She suspected her parents would also make it an early night.  Denis had disappeared after supper.   She had no idea where he had gone, but thanked Andraste for his consideration.  Sherpa, lying in front of the small fire in the hearth, raised her head from her paws to greet Lys.

“I miss Kai, Sherpa.” 

Sherpa whined.

“I know, you do too.  I need someone to tell me the truth.  Not _it will all work out_ or _don_ _’t worry_.”  Lys grabbed her cloak.  “Let’s go to the roof.  I can’t settle here.” 

From the top of the tower, Lys looked out over the cliffs to the Waking Sea.  A red line rimmed the western horizon.  Stars had begun to pop out in the eastern sky as Satina rose, huge and red, above the horizon.  Lys leaned on the parapet.  Sherpa flopped down at her side.  The horizon dimmed to pink and more stars appeared.

Behind her, the trapdoor to the roof creaked open.

“Lys?”

Lys sighed.  “Denis.”

“Company not welcome?”

She turned and looked at him.  Shrugging, she shook her head.  “I don’t know.  Distraction might be nice.”

“Distraction?”

She walked over to him and placed a hand on his chest.  She slipped her other hand behind his head, twining her fingers through his queue and pulled it him toward her.  Their kiss was tentative at first.  Lys had kept some distance between them when she returned from visiting the Rasiae.  Apart from a peck on the cheek or taking his arm when walking,  they had not touched each other.  The meetings on the tower roof,  kissing and exploring each other’s bodies, had not resumed.  She had seemed distracted and remote and he had not pushed her.  As the kiss deepened, Lys thought this might be just the distraction she needed.  There was no risk of pregnancy.  They would be wed in two months.  Her life would be with him, so why not turn to him for comfort now?

Denis put his arms around her, pulling her close, his thumbs massaging the sides of her breasts.  Her breath hitched as he rubbed.  He lifted his head to look at her.  Green eyes met grey.

“Lys, are you sure you want this?”

“Yes.  I do.  I need…” she frowned.

“What?”

“A friend.  Comfort.”

“I’m a friend?”  He almost smiled raising his eyebrows.

“You might be.”  She smiled.  “I don’t know Denis.  I don’t dislike you.  You’re here.  We’ll be together for a long time.  You don’t want this?”

“I do.  I just want to make sure you do.”

“Yes, but not here.”  She chuckled softly, recalling their liaisons in the winter chill during Satinalia.  “I don’t want cold stone under us, I’d rather a soft bed.”

“Your parents…?”

“We’ll have to be discreet, but with the army leaving, no one will pay us any attention.  Perhaps you can say you’ve decided to join me for breakfast until the wedding?’

“I suppose I could do that.  Quiet time together.  Get to know each other better.”

She smirked.  “Well, we that won’t be a lie…come on.”   She took his hand.

They went down the stairs.  Sherpa padded ahead to Lys’ door.  Lys and Denis followed.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Sherpa lifted her head as Lys tiptoed into the sitting room.  Denis slept in her bed, snoring lightly.  Lys wrapped her cloak around herself and sat on the floor leaning against Sherpa.

“Yes, it was quite nice, Sherpa,” she whispered.  “Distracting.  Comforting.”  She put her arms around Sherpa and rested her head on the mabari’s shoulder.  “I’m confused and scared.  I don’t want Fergus to go.  I want to talk with Kai.”  

Sherpa huffed.

A confusion of dreams followed as she dozed.  She was in a strange room in a tower overlooking lands she did not recognize.  She left her room to explore.  Outside she found walking paths, a river with boats and horses in the stable.  She saddled a horse and tried to ride home, but trails always led back to the tower.  There she would try again on a boat with the same result…finally she heard someone calling her.   

“Lys.  Lys.”

“Huh?  Denis.”  She looked around.  “Oh, I woke up and I didn’t want to disturb you.  I must have fallen asleep here.”

“Nothing I did?”

She smiled.  “No.  Is it…it’s still dark.”

“I think it’s almost daylight.  I heard Fergus when I used the privy.”  He sat beside her on the floor and put his arm around her.

She snuggled into his shoulder.  He kissed the top of her head. 

“Are you going to see Fergus off?”

“Of course.”

“Then, I’ll go now.”  He smiled and kissed her again on the cheek.  “I’ll be discreet.  Let you get dressed.  Your maid doesn’t stay in here?”

“That’s Kai’s room.  I won’t have someone else staying there.”

“You miss her.”

“Very much.”

“She’ll return before we leave?”

“No.  She has…another job now.  She won’t be back.”

“I see.  It…-“

“-would be awkward at best.  She’s my friend, Denis.  I won’t have her mistreated.”

He closed his eyes and then nodded.  “I can understand that.  Better now that I’ve spent time here.  I’m so sorry.  I wish I could tell you it would not cause her problems.”

“It was time for her to move on.”  Lys stood and took Denis hand.  “Denis, thank you.  Last night…it was lovely and comforting.  We should…um…maybe do it again?”

“Meet you on the tower tonight?  You can send me away if you change your mind.”

Lys laughed.  “That sounds like a plan.”

**9:30 Dragon   5 Drakonis  ===  Castle Cousland**

A long file of soldiers stood on the main road outside the castle gate waiting for their Commander and Lord Fergus.  Lys stood with her arm encircling Oriana’s waist.  She tightened her grip briefly as Fergus rode out of the baily.  Oren sat on Bryce’s shoulders and yelled good-bye to his father.  Eleanor stood next to Bryce with her arm through his.  Her other arm encircled Arlessa Alys Broughten.  The banns stood near the Couslands along the road.

Commander Eynion, Fergus and his personal guard rode to the head of the file soldiers.  He joined Philip Broughten there.  Commander Eynion ordered the troops to move forward.  The Highever troops marched west on the road to the Elstan Pass and the North Road beyond.  The knights and horse archers led the file of troops.  A contingent of mages followed on horseback or in carts with the Chantry sisters who would administer to the troops.  Duncan and Ser Gilmore rode with the knights.  The regular soldiers followed on foot.  Behind them, the spare horses, equipment wagons and some camp followers brought up the rear.

Townsfolk lined the other side of road.  Many cheered, some clapped, a few shouted goodbyes to specific solders, but others just watched silently.  The men and women walking and riding away were their customers, their friends, and their families.  The townsfolk understood that they went into danger.  Going to war against another country was one thing.  Going to war against monsters was something else entirely.  Commoner and noble alike, they felt proud and concerned.  None of them would rest easy until their troops returned home.

**9:30 Dragon   7 Drakonis  ===  Castle Cousland**

Howe arrived at Castle Cousland late in the morning two days after the Highever troops left.  His personal guard of seventy-five troops, The Vigil’s Shield, escorted him.  He smiled when he saw how deserted Castle Cousland appeared.  There were guards on the battlements, but they patrolled alone, not in pairs.  Seneschal Mowry greeted Arl Howe and had a servant escort him into the Great Hall where the Teyrn was bidding farewell to a few remaining banns. 

_That’s good.  All the visitors will be gone_.

Rendon entered the hall with Captain Lowan and a half dozen of his Shield.  He nodded to the banns as they left.

“Your Grace, Bryce,” Rendon said.  “I’m so sorry for our delay.  The weather….”

“-yes, well, no matter.  You’re here now.” Teyrn Cousland took in the muddy boots and mud splattered cloaks.  “You look like you’ve been through a flood.”

“We have, Your Grace.  I apologize for my appearance, but we didn’t have time to clean up.  I thought we should push on and assure you that we were, indeed, on our way.  We’re two days ahead of the main body of my troops.”  _I can’t wait to shed these filthy clothes.  The deception is necessary.  We would hardly be pristine if we had traveled through the storms we described in our messages._

“I’ve sent the Highever army on ahead under Fergus and Arl Broughten-“

“-both?”

“Yes.  Is that a problem?”

“No.  No of course not.  Wise action, Bryce.  So you and your personal guard will join us?”

“Yes,” Bryce laughed.  “It will be just like old times, eh?”

“Only this time we’re fighting monsters, not humans performing monstrous acts.”

“Yes.  Let’s hope this is just a large incursion.  A Blight seems too horrible to contemplate, unless we can end it at Ostagar.”

“I suspect it is not a Blight.  These wardens cannot be trusted.  It’s likely our troops will not even be needed.”

“Arl Howe, welcome to Castle Cousland.”

“Lady Melysande.  You did not return to Denerim to the Queen’s service?”

“No.  I thought I could be of use here and Her Majesty agreed.”

“And your wedding approaches – of course, you need to plan.”

“Yes, My Lord, it does and I do.”

“And when does your betrothed arrive?”

“Lord de Rievaulx is already here, My Lord.” 

“Lord Denis did not return to Orlais with his father, Rendon.”  Bryce gave Lys a fond glance.  “He seems to have taken a fancy to my fierce girl and decided to stay on until the wedding.”

“How…convenient.”  Howe’s smile did not reach his eyes.  _My agent failed to mention that bit of intelligence.  That complicates matters._  “Otherwise the Blight scare might have kept him waiting at the border with the rest of the chevaliers.”  He looked at Bryce, eyebrows raised.  “He is a chevalier, of course.”

“He is, Lord Howe, although he does not flaunt it here.”  Bryce’s eyes narrowed.  “Enough of Denis, Rendon.  Mowry will get you and your Shield settled.  He will send some of your Shield to the Arl’s barracks.  I’m afraid, even with most of the troops gone, we don’t have  space for your entire personal guard here.”

“No matter, Bryce.”  Howe’s laugh sounded more like a bark.  “I’m sure I won’t need their protection while I’m here.”

“I should hope not,” Bryce smiled.  “Once you get settled, join me in my study.  We can share a whiskey before dinner.”  

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“Were you flirting with my betrothed?”

Dairren flushed.  “No…yes…I mean I’ve known Lady Cousland since we were young.”

Lys looked at Denis, brow creased.  _Is this what I must expect.  Jealousy?_   “He’s teasing me, Denis.  We’ve known each other for years.”

Denis held up his hands.  “Maker, I know that.  I’m teasing too.  Or can’t the evil Orlesian tease?”

Dairren relaxed.  “Not evil, My Lord.  You wouldn’t be here if you were.  Lady Melysande would  have sent you packing.”

“You’re right.”  He looked at Lys.  “I suspect she would have at that.  So just a damned Orlesian, then.”

Dairren laughed nervously at the look Denis and Lys exchanged.  Denis looked apologetic and Lys looked…he wasn’t sure how Lys looked.  Serious, annoyed, sad…but then she put her hand on Denis’ arm.

“My Orlesian?  It seems I’ve acquired you these past weeks.”

“I can still leave if you want.”  Denis offered.

“And get home just in time to return?  That would be silly.  No, you’re stuck here until the wedding I’m afraid.  We’ll manage to put up with you.”

Denis’ eyes narrowed.  Lys’ moods remained hard to read.  He turned to Dairren.  “So, you ride with the Teyrn?”

“Yes, My Lord.  As his squire, nothing more.  I doubt I’ll see battle.”

“I wish I was riding with you.  I would love to fight these monsters and see this ended.”  He looked at Lys.  “We both would.”

“You will stay here and protect your betrothed and her family.”

“Her family, yes.  I’m not sure Lys needs my protection.”  Denis looked at her, standing next to him, and brushed a stray hair from her cheek. 

_Maker, he’s in love with her._   Dairren tried to hide his surprise. 

Lys started to brush Denis hand away, then caught herself, squeezed it and guided it back to his side.

“I think I’ll go to the library,” Dairren said.  “I always find some book I have not yet read in your grandfather’s collection.”  _And I can be sure Mother won’t find me there._   Dairren shook his head.  He knew the Teyrna had invited his mother to stay, but he wished she had gone with the other banns.  _Or maybe I’_ _ll find Iona._   _She’ll chase me away again, but I can still give her a few extra coin for Amethyne.  Mother’s allowance does not provide much extra to help Iona with her daughter.  What luck being the eldest son.  My allowance is more generous._

“I’ll go with you,” Lys said.  “I need to speak to Aldous.”  She touched Denis’ arm again.  “I’ll see you at dinner?”

“Of course.”  Denis made an effort to smile.  _I know she thinks I’m acting a part.  And I am.  It’s what any Orlesian noble does from birth as we learn to play the Game.  It doesn’t mean we don’t have real feelings.  Or that we don’t show them to family or trusted friends._   He watched Lys walk towards the library, chatting and laughing with Dairren.  _I wonder if she would believe me if I told her I like it here.  I like the lack of artifice.  Not wondering who will betray you next._ He saw Sherpa look back at him and wag her rear.  _Sometimes I think that dog smiles at me._   He shook his head and walked toward the Great Hall.  He missed Fergus already.  _At least he gave me the benefit of the doubt._ The Teyrn did too, but he was in his study with the Arl of Amaranthine.  Teyrna Eleanor, while always cordial, viewed him with almost as much reserve as Lys.

He grinned, recalling the past nights.  Perhaps reserve wasn’t the right word for Lys.  _Our lovemaking wasn’t reserved._    Although he suspected she wouldn’t call it love making.  _I do._   _Will she meet me again tonight or change her mind_?

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lys lay on her back next to Denis.  With the coverlet thrown back covering only one leg and hip, he could appreciate her body.  More muscular than other women he had bedded, he found her sculpted arms and legs attractive.  He enjoyed he curves too.  A defined waist set between curved hips and rounded breasts.  Her green eyes, closed at the moment and showing only long lashes under arched brows, were her finest feature, but a full lower lip had its appeal too.   As did her dark hair, waist length when loose, but usually, as it was now, braided.

“A silver,” he whispered.

“For my thoughts?” she asked rolling over to look at him. Brown hair that might have been blond when he was a boy fell over his cheek.  Grey eyes looked into hers.  The coverlet stopped below his waist.  Soft brown hair formed a triangle on his chest.  She ran her forefinger through the hair, tracing circles and arcs across his chest.

“So soon?  You may need to give me a moment.”

Lys’ head snapped up.  “What?  Oh.  No, I…my inexperience is showing.  I didn’t realize….”

Denis chuckled.  “If that’s how your inexperience shows, I’ll take it.  It feels good.  Don’t stop.”

She dropped her head again, feeling the color rise to her cheeks.  “I wondered what a day would be like in Lydes.”

“Oh.”  He frowned.  “We haven’t spoken much of Lydes have we?  Or of Val Royeaux.  I wasn’t sure you wanted to hear.”

“I’m going to live there.  I’d like to know more about you and Lydes.  At first, I thought I wanted to learn it all myself.  Go, knowing nothing.  Now I don’t think so.”

“What changed your mind.”

“You.  You’re not what I expected.  I realized I will just make up a Lydes in my head and then find I was wrong.”

“You made up a Denis in your head?”

“Yes.”

“I shouldn’t ask-“

“-definitely not.  Let’s just say that not wearing chevalier plate was only one fool notion you burst.”

“Right.  So maybe I can tell you stories about Lydes.  Me growing up there.  My family.  Should we start now?”

Lys tilted her head, smiling.  She leaned down and kissed his chest, then moved to his nipple.  The hand that had been stroking his chest slipped towards brown curls lower on his body. 

Denis sucked in a breath.  “So, tomorrow then,” he managed to whisper.

“Mmmm…tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It seems unlikely that the Highever troops would leave late in the day to march only a few miles or, even more unlikely, march through the night. If Howe’s troops were only a day away why not wait 24 hours and then all leave together. Having Fergus leave several days ahead of Howe’s arrival makes more sense to me. Leaving by 5 Drakonis means they should reach Ostagar by 25 Drakonis as King Cailan ordered.. It also makes sense that the Highever troops are a few days away from Castle Cousland when Howe’s troops finally arrive.
> 
> As we move into the period covered by DA:O, canon events will occur, but I will not repeat the game or use a lot of game dialogue. (You may notice Oren and Fergus did not discuss swards, truthiness or dire bunnies!)
> 
> This is an AU story. While I will try to keep the players in character, it will be the character I’ve developed from the beginning of this tale. Outcomes may will differ from those in game or canon. I hope you continue to read and enjoy.
> 
> Thank you for reading. I hope you continue to enjoy. If you have time, reviews, short or long, are always welcome!
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eyes. Her astute comments improve every post. Any errors are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to those who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. Special thanks to those who reviewed or commented: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, ElyssaCousland, dustywalker, susyjohn, and SnowHelm. You inspire me and make me think. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback.


	66. A Right Way to Do the Wrong Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:30 Dragon Drakonis - mostly takes place at the Circle Tower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world. Stories sometimes incorporate game dialogue, although not always in its original context. Either way, that dialogue belongs to Bioware. 
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

 **Chapter 66:** **A** **RIGHT WAY TO DO THE WRONG THING**

* * *

 

 _And you can't believe and you can't explain  
_ _How a heart can beat and the world can change  
_ _And it's left you wondering  
_ _If there's a right way to do the wrong thing_  
Cheryl Wheeler

**9:30 Dragon   13 Drakonis  ===  near the Circle Tower Docks**

Duncan and Ser Gilmore traveled with the Highever troops as far as the Circle Tower.  At that point, Duncan left the group, but sent Ser Gilmore on with the Highever knights. 

“When you get to Ostagar, find the Grey Warden encampment,” he instructed Ser Gilmore.  “There will be three other recruits there led by a young warden called Alistair.  Tell him I sent you and will follow with more recruits from the Tower.  We’ll proceed with the initiation once I arrive.”

“Yes, Warden Commander.” 

The young knight marched on with familiar companions from Highever.  Duncan walked towards the Tower docks.

**9:30 Dragon  14 Drakonis  ===  Tower of the Circle of Magi, Ferelden**

“Enchanter Amell?”

Liam Amell turned around in the hallway of the Mages living quarters.  A young mage approached him. Her startling white blond hair swept away from her face in braids which blended together in the back for a few inches and then fell in loose waves past her waist.  A silver ear cuff adorned the angle of her left ear covering it almost to its tip.  The silver of the jewelry echoed her large silver grey eyes.  Her gold robe denoted her status as a Mage.  All combined with a slender build to identify her as an elf.

“Congratulations Mage Surana.”  Liam smiled at his student. “I heard you breezed through your Harrowing. Well done.”

“Thank you, Enchanter.  I did, but …could we talk privately?”

Liam looked around the hallway.  “There’s no one here.”

“But someone might walk by.”

“Let’s go to the chapel-“

“-No!  Not the chapel.”

Liam raised dark eyebrows at her vehement response.  “Well, let’s see if one of these rooms is empty.”  The dark haired Enchanter poked his head through a nearby doorway.  “Here, this one.  Now, what’s this about?”

The story tumbled from Reina Surana.  “It’s Jowan.  Maker, he’s such a….”  She raised fists and shook them.  “We’ve been friends forever, but sometimes I just don’t understand him.  He thinks he’s in love with a Chantry Initiate.  Worse, he believes he’s about to be made Tranquil.  She claims to have seen a list with his name on it.  He’s frantic.  He wants to escape with her and she’s helping him.”

“Slow down, Reina.  How could an Initiate see such a list?  And now she’s willing to help him escape?”

“She saw it in the Knight-Commanders study.  Now, she and Jowan have an escape all planned. I think it sounds like a trap.”

Liam pulled at his short beard.  _I’m not surprised that Jowan is on that list, but I am surprised that he has a plan to escape the Rite.  Maker, if he would show that much energy practicing his magic he would be going to a Harrowing_.  “Sounds odd, I agree.  You spoke with both of them?”

“I met with them at his insistence, but she did most of the talking.  You know how he is.  It seems like she’s leading him.  About their plan, at least.  He’s desperate.”  She bit her lower lip and tugged at her ear.  “I can’t blame him for that.”

Liam had not seen her pull at her ear in years.  As a young, frightened apprentice, she had tugged her ear all the time.  She and Jowan had been two, scared children who befriended each other.  In spite of her talent, it had taken years to build her confidence.  Jowan, of only average ability, had never built his.  In spite of her success, they had remained friends.  Even with Reina’s encouragement, however, Jowan had spent more time complaining than practicing.  He only worked when Anders involved him in some prank.  Then he would learn a spell.  Every teacher he had felt frustrated with him.

“He wants me to help him destroy his phylactery.”

‘What!  How?  No one can get into the Repository.  Only the First Enchanter and Knight Commander can enter and then, only together.”

“I don’t know exactly.  They claim we can.  They had me get a rod of fire.”

“To melt the lock?  Surely it’s warded.”

“That’s why I need to go.  Only a Harrowed mage can dispel the wards.  Will the rod melt the lock?”

“I don’t know Reina.  I‘ve never seen the lock.”

“What should I do?  I have the rod.  I haven’t given it to them yet.  They’re waiting for me in the chapel.”

“Ah.  I see.”  He stood quietly staring at the floor.  He interlaced his fingers, rubbing a forefinger with his thumbs.   

Reina, familiar with his need to think things through, waited.

“There’s one other thing.”  Reina murmured. 

Liam looked up, head tilted.  His grey-blue eyes stared at her.

“He said he was being made Tranquil because the templars think he’s a blood mage.”  She watched Liam’s eyes widen and quickly added.  “He denied it.”

“Well he would, wouldn’t he?”  Liam took a deep breath.  “Maker’s Toothache.  Let me do it.  Give me the fire rod and I’ll help him.”

Reina’s eyes narrowed.  “You’ll help him?  Just like that?”

“No.  I can’t let him escape if there’s any chance he’s a blood mage.  I’ll talk to Irving and get his advice on how to handle it.  I’ll keep you out of it.  You’re a talented mage, Reina.  One of the few to be Harrowed at barely eighteen.  You deserve a chance to excel.  You’ll have opportunities to leave, perhaps go to Highever.  If you help Jowan and get caught, and you will get caught, the best you can hope for is to never leave the Tower.”

Reina shivered.  _He means if I leave the Tower it will be to go to Aeonar.  Jowan what have you done?  Why couldn’t you just practice your magic.  You’re good enough._   “What if I go to Irving?”

“It will still be a black mark.  You won’t get credit for being the messenger and doing the right thing.”

“Won’t it ruin your life?”

“Maybe not.   Greagoir knows me.  He knows I wouldn’t encourage Jowan or do blood magic.  The templars may watch me more closely for a while, but I’ll survive it.”

Reina pulled the fire rod out of her bag.  “I had to get Senior Enchanter Leora to sign for it.  I don’t want to get her in trouble.”

“I’ll do my best to see she doesn’t.  Now go back to your room and unpack your things.  I’ll talk to Jowan and his friend.”

“Lily.”  She saw he did not understand.  “The Initiate, her name is Lily.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

First Enchanter Irving had mentored Liam Amell from the time the he entered the Circle in 9:12 Dragon, when he had only six summers.  After losing one child to the Circle in Kirkwall, his mother, Revka Amell, refused to lose another.  She brought Liam to Ferelden seeking her cousin Leandra’s aid.  She hoped to leave Liam with Leandra and return to her life in Kirkwall.  Leandra had run away with a mage some years before.  Her husband, Malcolm Hawke, would know how to train Liam and keep him safe.

After landing at Higheverport, they traveled south with a group they met  on board ship.  Revka almost left Liam at the mage’s school in Higheverport, but decided to try and find Leandra first.  She wanted him raised with family, not in an orphanage.  Having made it this far, she felt confident they could reach Leandra in the Bannorn.  

While at an inn near the North Road, their luck ran out.  Liam cast a healing spell on a young girl who had fallen and broken her wrist.  In Highever, such an incident, involving only healing, would result in the young mage attending the local mages school.  On the edge of the Bannorn such protections did not exist.  Two templars happened to be in the common room of the inn at the time.  Before she could escape back over the pass to Highever, the two had whisked the boy away and taken him to the Tower of Magi.  Since his mother had given her family name, Amell, at the Inn, it had stuck.

Irving recognized Liam’s talent immediately.  Six year olds didn’t normally manifest magic much less cast effective healing spells.  Irving set him to work with Enchanter Wynne, but monitored his progress.  As Liam grew, Irving became his mentor and friend. 

Approaching Irving’s office, Knight Commander Greagoir brushed past Liam in the hallway ignoring his greeting.  Liam shrugged and continued to Irving’s door.  _Don’t let Irving fail me now.  I don’t know how to handle this._   He was about to knock, when he realized the First Enchanter had a visitor.  He looked in through the partially open door and recognized the Grey Warden who occasionally came to the Tower.  Warden Commander Duncan had once expressed interest in recruiting Liam, but had never followed through.  As Liam stepped aside to wait, Irving called him in. 

“Enchanter Liam, I think you know Warden Commander Duncan.”

“Yes. We met some years ago.  Greetings, Warden Commander.”

“Good to see you again, Enchanter.”  Duncan looked at Irving, “I’ll leave you to speak with Enchanter Liam, First Enchanter.  Please consider my suggestions.  We need more mages at Ostagar to support the king’s forces.  I hope the Knight-Commander will change his mind.”

Irving sighed.  “He can be stubborn, but usually he’s fair.  I will consider the suggestions, Duncan.”  Irving turned to Liam as Duncan departed.  “Now Liam, what brings you here?”

Liam looked to ensure Duncan had left.  “A problem, First Enchanter.  One I’m not sure how to resolve.”  Liam templed his hands and brought them to his face, his thumbs under his chin.  “I discovered an apprentice planing to escape…with a Chantry Initiate.”

“Jowan?”

“You know about him and the Initate?”

“I did not become First Enchanter by keeping my eyes and ears shut, Liam.  Why would they want to escape?”

“He believes he will be made Tranquil.”

“Why would he think that?”

“The Initiate claims to have seen a list-“

“-How does she know about the list?”

“She saw it on the Knight-Commander’s desk when she was sent to his study on an errand.”

“Curiosity.”  Irving shook his head.  “I’ve tried to put off the Rite, Liam, but Jowan is weak.  This liaison with an Initiate underscores that.  Mages have physical relationships, but only unwise mages get caught. Or try to escape with their lovers.”

“Why Tranquil?  He’s not a powerful mage, but he’s competent.  Has he dabbled in blood magic?”

“Who told you that?”

“He believes it’s why he was on the list.” 

“The Knight Commander suspects him of it.  He claims to have proof and eyewitnesses. Jowan’s limitations as a mage, the liaison with the Initiate, and suspicions of blood magic combined to make him a candidate for the Rite of Tranquility.  If he succumbs to love with an Initiate, what would he do if a demon offered him a deal?  He watches Reina and Anders move ahead and it does not motivate him to do the same.  He’s lazy Liam.  He looks for the easy path.”

Liam agreed. Jowan would never possess the skills of his friends, but with work he could be competent.  “Don’t you and the Knight Commander both have to approve the Rite?”

“Yes.”

“And you have?”

“For the reasons I just stated.”  Irving crossed his arms.  “Jowan has shown no ability to focus, control, and improve his magical talents.  He has fallen prey to temptation.  Were it up to only me, I might try other methods, but the Chantry….”  Irving gave the young Enchanter time to consider his words.  “If you want to survive, you must learn the rules and realize that sometimes, sacrifices are necessary.” 

“I find it hard to accept.” Liam admitted.

“As do we all, at first.  So, what does he want you to do?”

“Help him destroy his phylactery.  He needed a rod of fire, but needed a mage to get it for him.”

“And did you?”

“I have it.  I haven’t gone back to them yet.”  _Haven’t spoken with him at all.  Irving seems to accept I’m the only mage involved.   At least Reina’s safe._

“Help him.  I want both of them caught.  I can’t save him, but I want her punished as well.”

“And me?”

“You will have to accompany them.  They’ll need a mage, not an apprentice, to get through the wards to the Repository.  I’ll be there with Greagoir when you come out of the lower levels.  You won’t suffer for following my instructions.”

“It feels wrong.  Just detain them both when I meet them in the chapel.”

“No, Greagoir will claim Jowan controlled her mind.  That he framed her.”

“Jowan?  Jowan can’t control himself.  You just admitted that.”

“Greagoir suspects him of blood magic.”

“He’s just not that strong, First Enchanter.”

“I know, but that’s what Greagoir will claim.  The Chantry must punish her, not just Jowan.  The must both be caught in the act.”

“You don’t think she’s part of a plan-“

“-to entrap a single mage.  No, Liam.  They don’t need to entrap him using an Initiate.  They only need to make Jowan Tranquil to find out what he knows of blood magic, if anything.  Making a mage Tranquil severs his connection to the fade.  It does not destroy his memories.”  Irving watched as Liam digested this information.  “This is his own doing, Liam.  Thoughtless actions like this one are why I agreed to the Rite.  They must both suffer the consequences of their actions.  You will not suffer by acting under my orders.” 

“Alright, I’ll speak to them now.”  Liam walked toward the door.  _Why do I think this is the wrong thing to do?_

“Liam, before you do, please stop and see if Duncan needs anything.  It’s the guest room by the Mage’s Library.”

“As you wish, First Enchanter.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Liam stopped by Duncan’s room happy to postpone his meeting with Jowan and Lily.  The Warden Commander greeted him with an invitation. 

“Did you reconsider my offer, Enchanter Liam?”

“Offer?  You mean to join the wardens?  No, Warden Commander.  My destructive spells remain limited.”

“We need healers, too Enchanter.  I fear I have not been persistent enough.  I have too few wardens and too few mages.  A group of Tower mages has already arrived at Ostagar to support the king’s army.  Highever also sent mages with their forces, but they are not wardens.”

“None of them would satisfy your requirements?”

“None that I have met.” 

“First Enchanter Irving sent me to see if you needed anything.”

Duncan smiled.  “Besides mages for the king and warden recruits, nothing.”

“What is the situation in the South?”

Duncan stared at Liam through narrowed eyes.  “I won’t mince words.  It’s dire.  This is a Blight.  If we can stop it in the Wilds, we’ll save many lives.  I don’t know that we can.  We wardens are few.  There is much we do not know. 

“The Fereldan General, Teyrn Loghain, may be a brilliant strategist against Orlesians, but he’s never fought a Blight.  Most of the king’s army have no experience fighting darkspawn.  Yet, Loghain refuses to listen to our counsel or believe this is a Blight.  Orlesian wardens stand ready at the borders to assist, but Fereldan troops refuse them passage.”  Duncan frowned.  “I talk too freely, Enchanter.  Have you put a spell on me?”

“No.”  Liam stepped back shaking his head.  “No, I assure you nor will I repeat your words.”

Duncan smiled.  “I did not mean to threaten, Enchanter.  I’m just an old man rambling too much out of concern.  Now, I’m sure you have other duties and I have some research to pursue in your fine libraries.”

“I’ll leave you to that, but please let me know if you need any assistance.”  Liam walked into the hallway and turned towards the chapel.  He walked slowly, head down, thinking of how he should approach Jowan.  _Is there a right way to approach this when I know it’s wrong?_  

Liam knew Jowan well.  He had taught him since attaining Enchanter status three years before.  Lack of confidence and laziness, not lack of talent caused Jowan to fail.  He compared himself to the other mages in his group.  Reina and Anders, in particular, showed unusual talent.  Jowan’s efforts had diminished the more he saw his friends flourish.  He could be a competent mage if he believed in himself.  His doubts made him weak.  Every templar believed that weak mages provided an open invitation to demons.  He was not surprised that Knight Commander Greagoir had decided Jowan should be made Tranquil.  The suspicion of blood magic and the liaison with the Initiate just made his situation worse.

Liam believed the Circle failed mages like Jowan.  _Or perhaps as Irving had said, the Chantry imposing its will on its…captives._   He thought less talented mages should receive as much attention as talented ones.  Given time with a mentor, any mage could learn his or her own capacity for magic without comparing it to that of more gifted classmates.  A mage like Jowan needed to learn his capabilities not his deficiencies.  Secure in his own skills, Jowan and those like him would more easily resist demons. 

Then again, the templars and the Chantry saw coin when they created a Tranquil.  They got either free labor, like Owain in the stockroom, or a Formari working with runes or running a lucrative magic shop.  A moderately talented mage offered them nothing but a mouth to feed.  An average mage may never rise to Enchanter and teach or qualify as a household or court mage and bring in coin.  There were only so many Mages needed in any Tower.  _I wonder if there’s a quota._ He imagined templars deciding on a number. _We have fifty mages, better make a few apprentices Tranquil, until a more die of old age._   _It has to be apprentices. The Chantry rules out making Harrowed Mages Tranquil._  He shuddered at this random thought. _No, even the Chantry wouldn’t be that cruel._

Despite his slow pace, he had reached the Chapel door.  He took a deep breath and entered.  Searching the alcoves, he saw Jowan and the Initiate to his left.

“Enchan… chanter Liam, hello.”  Jowan stuttered.

“Hello, Jowan.  Lily, I presume?”

“How would you know that?”  The Initiate’s eyes narrowed.

“Reina spoke with me.  Your requests upset her.”

“Of course, she would go running to you.”  Jowan snapped, his anger erasing his discomfort.  “So, are the templars waiting in the hallway?”

“No.  No one’s waiting.  I brought you this.”  Liam handed over the rod of fire.

“You will help us?”  Lily asked eyes widening.

“I just have.”

“We need you to accompany us.”  Lily stated.

 _Alright, I’ll play along.  They can’t be sure what Reina told me._   “Why?”

“Only a Harrowed mage can open the door and dispel the magical wards.  Jowan can’t do it,” the Initiate explained.

 _Reina’s right, she does have a lot of answers.  Ah, well…in for a copper in for a silver._   “When do you want to meet?”

“Now.  Once we destroy Jowan’s phylactery, we can leave.”  Lily said.

“We have the escape planned.  We won’t need your help for that.”  Jowan added.

“Let’s go then.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Jowan dropped the phylactery on the floor shattering it.  Lily threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.  He blushed a deep rose, but returned the hug and kiss.  Her reaction surprised Liam.  It seemed real.

 _Perhaps she does care for him._   “Let’s go.  Perhaps we can open the main door from the inside,” Liam said. 

When they found they could not, they made their way back through the dungeons.  With no attacks, Liam had time to observe his surroundings.  _These must be the cells where they held Anders._ He grimaced when he saw another pile of bones. _Unless there are more at a deeper level.  The Avvars had dwarven help building this tower.  Who knows how deep it goes._

Finally, they emerged into the tower’s main floor chamber only to be greeted by Greagoir, Irving and half a dozen templars.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Reina had seen Jowan and Liam walk through the library, followed a few moments later by Lily.  _He must be helping them._   Sometime later, Irving and Greagoir passed by her table.  All the mages and apprentices noticed that.

 “Heading to the Entrance Chamber?”  Anders said.  “New apprentice coming in?” 

Reina shrugged.  “Must be, if they’re going in that direction.  I have a few more things to retrieve and take to my new space.” 

“Aaannd you can report back on what you see.”

Reina gave what she hoped was a smile which promised she would do just that.  She got up, returned her book to the shelves, and made her way towards the apprentice quarters.  She stopped at the doorway of the chamber holding the stairs to the basements and peered out.  Irving and Greagoir stood talking.  _I hope I didn’_ _t get Liam in trouble._   She saw no templars and took that as a good sign.  No one prevented her from crossing the chamber.  As she entered the hallway, she was immediately pushed aside by six templars marching to the chamber she had just left.  _Maker, Irving decided to set a trap for them._ _Oh, Liam I am so sorry._

Reina turned back and pulled the door open a crack.  She saw the templars arrange themselves in a semicircle around the basement entrance.  Greagoir and Irving stood in the center, waiting.  They did not wait long.  Afterwards, Reina could not remember exactly what she saw.  She remembered Liam leading the group up the stairs.  Then Jowan had bellowed about betrayal.  She had never heard Jowan bellow before.  Yell and scream, yes, but never with such rage.  From then on, the scene became a jumble.  She saw Jowan pull a knife and slice his hand.  She saw everyone but Jowan collapse.  She heard herself screaming _blood magic,_ but she was unsure whether she said it aloud or just in her head.  Then the door pushed open, she fell, and Jowan was bellowing again.

“You!  You betrayed us to Liam.” 

“I only asked for his help.”

Jowan had grabbed her hand then and pulled her upright.  When she tried to pull away, he held on to her wrist and dragged her with him.  She stumbled after him confused.  She looked behind them, but no templars followed.

“Jowan, you’re hurting me.  What are you doing?”

“Leaving.  And you’re coming with me.”

She tried to stop and pull away.  His strength surprised her.  “Why?  Two of us will be easier to find.”

“Not if we split up later.”  He dragged her along.  “Then they’ll look for you, not me.  They have _your_ phylactery.” 

 _When did he get so strong?_   Reina tugged against his grip.  _What can I do that won’t hurt him?_   She did not have her staff and he held her arm so casting would be awkward.  _Maybe my lightening spell?_   _No, a glyph to stop us._    _Will Repulsion separate us?_  The options raced through her mind.  She rejected paralysis because it would affect her as well.

Reina cast the repulsion glyph so the edge was at her feet and extended behind her.  If she could pull Jowan into the glyph it would repel him.  He might let go.  She pulled against him and managed to step back when he slowed to see what she had done..  He stepped into the glyph.  The shock did separate them.  They both fell, but Jowan recovered first.  He cast from a sitting position and then stood up.  Reina felt her mana drain.  _He couldn’t do this in class last week._   She stood up as the glyph dissipated.  “You failed on purpose last week?”

Jowan just grabbed her again as she tried to run away.  By this time they had an audience of apprentices.  Some cheered for Reina and a few for Jowan.  _They think we’re testing each other.  That it’s a game._   As far as the apprentices knew, they were best friends.  Even if he had not drained her mana, there were too many around them for her to use a dangerous spell.

Jowan jerked her forward and pushed her ahead of him through the great doorway to the entrance hall.  He pushed it closed.  She heard it thunk shut behind her.  Jowan looked around.  The only templars were the two at the door.

Usually there were two others near the entrance to the Apprentice Quarters or standing by the merchant.  _They must have gone with the patrol to capture Jowan._   She felt her mana coming back and was about to cast her lightening spell when Jowan turned and sliced her arm.  She screamed, shocked at the attack and the pain.  Jowan used her blood to cast the same spell he had used on Irving and Greagoir.  The templars guarding the door fell before they realized what was happening.  Before Reina could run, Jowan grabber her arm again.  _Maker that hurts._ She cast a healing spell on herself, reluctant to use her mana, but she had to stop the bleeding.

Jowan dragger her over to the merchant, who had not been affected by the blood magic.  He demanded all the merchant's lyrium, poultices, and potions.  The merchant, cowering before Jowan’s magic, handed over everything he had. 

“Drink this.  You can caste another healing spell if you need to.”  He waited while she drank the healing potion.  “Let’s go.”

He pulled her past the still prone templars, through the main door and down to the docks.  Reina found she was relieved to see no one guarding the docks at the bottom of the stairs.

“Jowan, you’re free.  Let me go.  I don’t want to escape.”

“Those templars saw you, Reina.  Do you think they’ll believe you innocent?  Besides, I need you.  Now get in the smallest boat.  Anders said these coracles were always here for the templars, but it takes two to paddle them.  So you’ll paddle.” 

When she hesitated he pushed her toward the boat.  _I didn’t help them.  What if the Chantry sister says I did?  And those templars might not remember exactly what happened.  Only that I was with him._

“You’re out now.  They’ll believe you were my accomplice.  You can’t go back.”

Reina understood the truth of his words and got into the boat.  _He’s right.  It’s too late to go back._   She started paddling.  Jowan pointed to a spot out of sight of the mainland dock.  They could pull the coracle ashore, hide it, and make their way through the forest from there.  It took them a few moments, but they finally got the coracle heading in the right direction.

As they paddled, Reina began to collect her thoughts.  “Did you kill them all?”

“No.  None of them are dead, just stunned.”  He paddled silently for a while.  “There may be a few broken bones, nothing worse.”

“Where did you learn blood magic?”

He laughed.  “There’s a group of us learning.  It’s the only way to free ourselves from our cages.”

“If there’s a plan, why run?”

“I wanted to be with Lily.  I didn’t want to revolt.  I wanted to go away, give up magic and live freely, like anyone else.”

“You love her?”

“I did.  She didn’t care about me.”  He spoke through clenched teeth.  “I thought she would come with me once I subdued everyone, but she gave herself up and condemned me.  Just like everyone else.  Now let’s beach this boat and hide it.”

They pulled the boat up on shore and into the bushes.  The templars would find it, but by then the rain that threatened would have washed out their trail.  _Lucky us._   She remembered some of Anders' stories.  _Will the rain confuse the dogs?_   Reina stumbled forward with him.  He was right, she could not return.  No one would believe she was innocent of plotting with him.  Even Liam will think she planned this.  She watched Jowan trudge through the forest ahead of her. 

“Now what?”  He seemed to shrink as she watched him.

He shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Lily had the plan.”

“So your blood magic doesn’t help you now?”

“No.”

“Wonderful.”

“What do you think we should do?”

“We, now it’s we?  You drag me from my home, attack me, and now you expect me to find our way?” 

Jowan slumped down on a log.  “You’re the smart one.  Someone else is always the smart one.  You figure it out.”

Reina sighed.  “First, we need to get as far away as possible.”  She remembered Anders telling her he always walked through a river or stream to hide his scent from the dogs.  “We need to find a stream, hike in it for a long way and then we can separate.  You go your way and I’ll go mine.  That should protect you.”

Jowan looked up.  “Thanks, Reina.  I’m sorry I involved you at all.”  Then his expression changed again, a flush of anger suffusing his cheeks.  “Why did you talk to Liam?  He’s a teacher and the First Enchanter’s pet.  You should have known he’d go to Irving.”

“I didn’t know what to do.  I had the rod, but I didn’t think we could succeed, Jowan.  They would have caught us.”

“No, Lily had a plan.  They had no idea what we planned in the Repository.  It would have taken them days to find out.  They don’t check the room very often.  Only when an apprentice is Harrowed or a new one arrives.  We would have been gone by then.”

“What was Lilly’s magnificent plan?”

“She and I would go out into the entry chamber and speak with the merchant.  While she bargained with the merchant, I was to cast a sleeping spell on the templars.”

“Just you.  Without blood magic?”

“Umm…well, I’ve been practicing with Anders.  I think I could, but I always thought I could fall back on the blood magic if I had to.”

“And you think Lily would have accepted that?”

“I thought so.  I guess I was wrong.”  He leaned his head on his hands.  “I didn’t think it would hurt you once you were Harrowed.”

Reina’s eyes narrowed.  She crossed her arms.  “You knew I was to be Harrowed last night?”

Jowan nodded.  “Lily saw that list too.  The Harrowed and Tranquil lists were together.  It seemed perfect.”

Reina closed her eyes willing her tears not to fall.  “Lucky, indeed.”

“Then there you were when I ran out.  All I could think of was that it takes two to paddle that boat.  I’d never have managed it myself.   I had to go.  They would kill me.  You’ll forgive me won’t you?”

 _Maker’s Mana, I’ve always given in when he whines like a puppy.  Not this time._   “Now they’ll kill both of us.  No, Jowan, you’re not forgiven.  It may not have been much of a life in the Tower, but it was a life and it was mine.  You took that away.  Now just follow me and do as you’re told.  And walk carefully.  Don’t leave a trail for them to follow.”  _How do I know this?_   It seemed a voice in her head told her what she needed to do in the forest.  It was more than Anders stories.  The forest seemed more familiar than frightening.  Only the thought of templars and dogs scared her.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Liam sat up and started to cast a healing spell.  Then he remembered all the templars around him and how he got here.  He decided against casting.

“Are you alright, First Enchanter?”

“I’m fine, considering.  Where is Greagoir?”

“Here, Irving.  Maker I never thought that boy capable of such power.”  Greagoir glared at Irving.  “If you had let me act sooner we would not be in this position.  Now we have a blood mage on the loose and no way to track him.”

“None of us expected this, Greagoir.”

“He can’t have gone far, Knight-Commander.”  Liam said.

Greagoir turned his glare on Liam.  “Do not worry, Enchanter, we will use every resource at our disposal.”

The other templars had recovered and surrounded Liam and the Initiate. 

“Conspiring with a blood mage.  Get her out of my sight.”  Greagoir turned away from Lily in disgust.  “And you, Enchanter!”

“Greagoir, Enchanter Liam acted under my instructions.  He did nothing wrong.”  Irving spoke deliberately and softly as always.

“Nothing wrong!  He helped a blood mage destroy his phylactery.”  Greagoir voice rose to a shout.  “Who knows what influence the blood mage had over him.”

“Jowan did not influence him to do anything.  He was working under my orders.”  Irving held Greagoir’s stare and crossed his arms.  “I had my reasons.”

Greagoir shook his head.  “He cannot return to teaching apprentices”  He looked at Liam.  “You were one of the promising ones.  You’re the youngest Enchanter in the Circle.  What are we to do with you?”

“Perhaps I can solve that dilemma, Knight-Commander.”  The three men turned as Duncan entered the chamber.  “I am not only seeking mages for the king’s army, I seek grey wardens.”  

“No.  Absolutely not.  We must investigate this mage.  Ensure he has not been corrupted.  I will not allow it.”

“First Enchanter Irving has spoken well of Enchanter Liam.  I, myself, have observed him on past visits.  He could become a good warden.”

“You would reward him for his actions?”  Greagoir asked.

“Do we not reward service to the Circle, Greagoir?  He followed my orders.”

“Knight Commander, you know worse things than a blood mage threaten us in the South.”

“No.”  Greagoir cut his hand across the space in front of him.

“Then I must insist.  I, Duncan, Warden Commander of Ferelden, conscript you, Enchanter Liam Amell, into the Grey Wardens.”

“Maker’s Breath, Duncan you go too far, but  I cannot prevent this.  Just get him out of my sight and away from the Tower.  You will get no more mages or recruits here.”  Knight Commander Greagoir stalked away.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Liam followed Duncan to the guest room where Duncan gathered his things.  Then they stopped at Liam’s cubicle to put his few belongings in a satchel Duncan provided. 

“Let’s go Enchanter.  I’m sorry it must happen this way, but you will make a fine warden.”

“I’m sorry too, Warden Commander.  I feel like I’m leaving much undone.”  Liam shrugged.  “I’ve always wanted to see the outside so perhaps I should look on the bright side.  Blue skies, green forests, darkspawn, battles, more healing than I can possibly handle…what could be wrong with that?”

Duncan chuckled.  “I’m glad you retain your sense of humor.  You and Alistair should get on well.”

“Alistair?”

“Yes, you met him several years ago.”

“A templar?”

“No, a grey warden.  He joined us six months ago.  He did not take his vows as a templar.  Did what he could to avoid them in fact.”

“I recall he wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about becoming a templar.  Well, it should be interesting meeting him again.  At least I know he doesn’t fear mages.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“What do you mean there were two of them?”  Knight Commander Greagoir was shouting again. 

The templars guarding the entrance door shuffled their feet at his displeasure.   

“A girl mage.  An elf.”  The templar standing by the main entrance said.  “He dragged her with him.”

“I don’t think she went willingly, Knight Commander.”  The templar’s partner added.  “He had her by the arm.  Pulled her along, then sliced her arm.  He used her blood to subdue us.  I didn’t see anything after that.” 

“Describe this girl.”  Greagoir demanded.

“As I said, an elf.  Blonde, almost white hair.  Braids on either side of her head.  Slender, like most of them are, but tall, for an elf.  Came to his nose.  And a mage, not an apprentice.  Her robe was gold.”

“Thank you, templar.  That helps.”  Greagoir turned to his Knight-Captain.  “Lock down the Tower and make sure they did not come back while these two _slept_.  You two, go across and see if Kester has seen them.  Whether the elf went voluntarily or not, she is now under the influence of a powerful blood mage.  We must consider them both fugitives.”

A templar rushed in from outside.  “Knight-Commander, one of the coracles is gone.  There’s no sign of them on the water.” 

“Damn.  We’ll start the search immediately.  Begin along the shore.  Find that coracle and search inland from there.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Liam had stopped by Reina’s cubicle on his way out and found it empty.  Her things had remained unpacked.  Perhaps she had gone to get some remaining belongings and stayed in the apprentice quarters if she heard the commotion in the chamber next door.  When he checked her bunk in the apprentice quarters, however, it was empty too.  He had no time to ask questions or find her.  Jowan was gone.  The templars had told Duncan that as they passed through the hallway.  Lily was in custody.  They had mentioned no one else.

 _I told no one of Reina's involvement.  She should be safe._   Now he had to leave.  _A grey warden recruit.  Not exactly, the way I expected my day to go._

Duncan and Liam exited the Tower, paying no more attention to the templars searches.  The Ferryman, Kester, chatted about the escape as he rowed them across the water.

“Jowan escaped in a coracle?” Liam repeated. 

“Yep, them two took a coracle and rowed down the lake just as bold as you please.”

“Two?” 

“Yep, dark haired boy, you called ‘im Jowan, and an elf girl with hair as white as those whitecaps on the lake.  I coulda followed them, but I wasn’t risking them throwing any spells at me.  I just watched and told the templars.“

 _Reina was part of the plan?  Had she tricked me?_   Irving could not have known either.  He shuddered.  _If Reina was a blood mage that was serious._ He still had trouble believing what Kester said.  _Reina?  No, there must be some other explanation.  I know Reina.  She wants to be an Enchanter, to teach or to leave and serve outside the Tower.  She’s not desperate.  Jowan was motivated by desperation.  By the threat of Tranquility.  Reina just succeeded at her Harrowing at a very young age.  I can’t believe she would throw that away.  Why didn’t she resist, if he was forcing her?_ Liam was not an Andrastean, but his first thought was, Sweet Andraste watch over her because no one else will.

As they clambered ashore, Duncan announced they would head for Lake Calenhad Docks.  From there they would take a boat to Redcliffe.

Liam took one last look back at the Tower that had been his home for eighteen years.  Then he followed Duncan past the ruins and the little inn to the road.  He had green grass under his feet, flowers and trees surrounded him.  He heard birds chirping and saw them swooping about.  At least I can enjoy my freedom.  I don’t envy Reina and Jowan theirs. 

**9:30 Dragon  Drakonis  ===   Redcliffe**

The boat ride from the Docks to Redcliffe took the better part of two days.  To Liam’s surprise, they did not immediately set out for Ostagar upon disembarking.  Duncan had business at Redcliffe Castle, so the two men took rooms at the small inn on the hillside above the town.  Duncan handed him a warden tabard after they broke their fast the next morning. 

“As long as you wear this and use no magic, the templars won’t bother you.”  Duncan rubbed his beard.  “Redcliffe is not a town that accepts mages easily. I spoke to the Templar Lieutenant alerting him to your presence.  You can explore as much as you want.”

He left Liam to his own devices, while he walked up to the great fortress Liam could see from the porch of the inn. 

Liam had enjoyed the boat ride.  He was enjoying each new experience.  Opportunities to travel outside the Tower had not come his way.  Irving always told him to wait, he would have his time.  Some Senior Enchanters, like Wynne, left the Tower often to visit the College in Cumberland or serve royal or noble patrons.  He had hoped one day to do the same.  Now he had left for good.  While he was not entirely sure about becoming a warden, he intended to make the most of his freedom.

Redcliffe seemed a dusty, little fishing village too small to support the service required by a major fortress.  _They must have all the services they need inside the castle wall.  Makes sense if that fortress can withstand sieges lasting years._ He had read Fereldan history at the Tower, as well as geography and an overview of the economy and government.  Not that it had been required, he had been curious as to what he was missing.  Now he could experience firsthand what he had only imagined.

From the boat, he had seen no large towns after leaving Lake Calenhad Docks.  They had passed the Circle Tower, then seen only small piers jutting out from what he assumed were large farmholds or small villages along the eastern shore.  Duncan had pointed out the mouth of the River Dane just as the sun set.  He assured Liam that a few larger towns could be found further inland.  Most of the fishing boats they had passed had flown the red and white Redcliffe pennant or the full Redcliffe banner showing a fortress on a hill.  Others vessels had flown the buff and blue colors of Bann Loren or the black on black of the Southern Bannorn.

As they sailed, he remained on deck observing everything.  Sailors climbed the mast and managed the sails.  Birds flew over and behind following  the wake and seeking food.  In his small, stuffy cabin, he felt queasy, but on deck the feeling dissipated.  He stayed out to watch the sun set into the Frostbacks.  Then there were stars.  So many stars.  No moon, but he would see Satina and her brother later.

Once in Redcliffe he found a compact, but bustling village.  A good sized chantry provided the town school, templar quarters and cloister for the sisters, brothers and Revered Mother.  Every other necessary service from smith to grocer to fishmonger to textile artisans had a store front.  Climbing the hill to the windmill, he saw forest, farmholds and sheep dotting the hillsides.  He also saw a lot of soldiers.

Speaking with them, he learned that the troops from Redcliffe and the surrounding banns had not left for Ostagar.  Most camped on the tourney grounds a few miles from the village.  Others, mostly knights, stayed inside the Castle.  _I wonder if we’ll march with them or go on ahead?_

His only unpleasant experience came as he walked away from the Redcliffe knight, Ser Perth. A priest had accosted him, calling Ser Perth to detain him until she could bring the templars. 

“Mother Eleutheria”, Ser Perth said, “he’s a grey warden here with the Warden Commander. The templars have no power over him.  You know this to be true.  I believe the templars have been told of his presence by Warden Commander Duncan.”

The Mother had replied with her surprising Orlesian accent. “He’s a mage.  He should be escorted, even if he is a grey warden.”

Another woman came up beside the Mother.  “Eleutheria, it is true.  Warden Commander Duncan left him at the inn in the village rather than disturb us with his presence.  As long as he remains here, we should simply ignore him.  No sense annoying the Warden Commander, no?  We need his cooperation.”  The second women also spoke with an Orlesian accent. 

Nodding at Ser Perth and ignoring Liam, the two women walked toward the castle path, escorted by two of the Arl’s guard.  Liam had looked back at Ser Perth who shook his head. 

“Go on back to the village, Warden Liam.  No one else will bother you.”

Duncan spent the day in the castle.  He met with Riordan.   Arl Guerrin assured Duncan that his troops would arrive at Ostagar when the local area had been secured.  The Arl pointed out that Arl Wulff’s lands suffered repeated attacks.  He feared the darkspawn would fall upon the farmholds bordering Redcliffe next.  Until he had secured those borders, he could not send his knights, archers or foot soldiers to fight elsewhere.  Duncan promised to pass on the delay and assure King Cailan of his arrival, however late it might be.

Duncan joined Liam for supper at the inn.  They left for Ostagar the following morning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I was listening to Cheryl Wheeler as I reviewed this yesterday. She began a song called Right Way to Do the Wrong Thing. I changed my title, it just seemed to fit. So credit to her for the title inspiration and lead in quote. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. I hope you continue to enjoy. If you have time, reviews, short or long, are always welcome!
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eyes. Her astute comments improve every post. Any errors are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to those who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. Special thanks to those who reviewed or commented: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, ElyssaCousland, ChaoticHarmony , EasternViolet and SnowHelm. You inspire me and make me think. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback.


	67. We Sense Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:30 Dragon Drakonis in Ostagar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world. Stories sometimes incorporate game dialogue, although not always in its original context. Either way, that dialogue belongs to Bioware. 
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

**Chapter 67** **– WE SENSE THEM**

* * *

 

**9:30 Dragon  Guardian ===  on the West Rd. to Ostagar**

Alistair’s second trip from Denerim to Ostagar did not compare with the first.  This group met no tainted animals.  They built no pyres for darkspawn victims.  They found no devastated hamlets.  No bonds formed through battling darkspawn together.  Jory remained apart, but Taina and Daveth tried to outdo each other each evening with tales of crimes committed and capture avoided.  Alistair tried not to show his amusement, but a few of the stories were so ridiculous he failed.  Taina proved an excellent storyteller.  Daveth, sure she embellished her tales, tried but failed to identify the exaggerations.

“You don’t know dwarven customs, Daveth, or Orzammar.  You’ll never catch her fabrications,” Alistair warned

“And you do?”  Daveth grumbled and then muttered, “Not that I believe rivers of liquid fire flow anywhere.”

“They do flow in Orzammar.  I know it well enough to be sure she didn’t jump across a river of lava.  I mean, really, Taina, with your short le…stature and the heat that comes off lava flows,” Alistair snickered, “you wouldn’t be here to tell the tale.”

Taina shrugged.  “It was a tiny river, a stream you call them here.”

Alistair chuckled, raising his eyebrows.  “A trickle perhaps.  A cooling puddle?”

Taina’s eyes narrowed.  She crossed her arms.  “One trip to Orzammar and you’re an expert, cloudhead?”

He shook his head still laughing.  “I can’t prove it wasn’t a river, Daveth.” 

Alistair had split the night into three watches, so that one of the travelers could sleep through every fourth night.  After supper, three of the comrades sat around the fire caring for armor and weapons and chatting until first watch.  Jory silently cleaned his armor and cared for his weapons in front of his shelter, but stood his watch without complaint.  Alistair sensed no darkspawn.  No bandits or intruders disturbed their march west.

By the time they got to the inn at South Reach, Alistair found his misgivings about Daveth diminishing.  Some of Daveth’s stories had been about his childhood in a small hamlet in the Southron Hills.  Although he joked about it, it was clear his father had been a cruel man.  The more Alistair heard, the more his disdain for the _fellow_ from Denerim faded.  _Daveth did what he had to just as Taina did.  He just doesn’t wear a brand._    

Jory kept to himself, but exhibited only minor insubordination.  A few days out from Denerim, he balked at taking his turn caring for the pack mules.  Alistair had shrugged and asked Daveth to help him with the mules.  When they finished, he picked up his bow.

“Daveth, would you join me?  Let’s find some meat for Taina’s stew.” 

The thief had turned out to be, not only a good archer, but also a talented hunter.  _Probably did some poaching with that father of his as a youth._   He and Alistair provided fresh meat most nights, while Taina cooked.  Jory gathered wood and sometimes helped clean up.  He drew the line at caring for the animals.

“Three fat hares, Taina.”  Daveth handed the animals, already field dressed, to the dwarf. 

Taina’s eyebrows rose.  “Not four or five?”

“Warden Alistair said Ser Knight would have to make do with leftovers tonight.  Those that don’t carry their weight don’t get fresh meat in their stew.“

Taina grinned.  “He’ll have to be satisfied with the broth then.  I’m making dumplings.  He’ll get what I don’t use for our stew.”

Jory had refused the dumplings and broth and sulked, while Alistair and the other two recruits ate their stew. 

“Did you think one of us would share, Ser Knight?”  Daveth chortled.

“A good leader feeds his troops.”  Jory grunted.

“So you consider me your leader?”  Alistair asked.  “Because the way I learned it, a good troop obeys the leader.”

“No…I…you’re just a common thug.  I don’t care what Duncan says.”

Taina and Daveth exchanged looks as they waited for Alistair’s reaction. 

“So it’s not just me you won’t obey?”  Alistair did not raise his voice.

Jory relented.  “Duncan is warden commander.  I acknowledge that.”   

“Well, Duncan says I’m your leader.  Until you follow my orders, you will not eat the game Daveth and I catch.”

“What qualifies you to lead me, a knight?”

“Aside from being a grey warden already and Duncan assigning me as leader?  Nine years training as a templar, perhaps.”

“Templar?  So that rumor is true?  I’ve met common templars.  A few lessons at some country Chantry and you think you’re a knight’s equal?”

“Enough that he beat you every time you sparred in Denerim,” Taina said

Jory flushed, but persisted.  “So he can fight.  That does not mean he can lead.”

Alistair stared at him a long time before replying.  “Dragon’s Peak.  Nine years at Dragon’s Peak.  I became a warden before I took my vows.”  He got up and walked some distance from camp before he scraped his bowl clean and left the dropping near a bush.  Taking some leaves, he wiped it out and returned to the fire.

Jory stared.  “Did you say Dragon’s Peak?”

“I did.”

“But that’s a noble’s school.”

“Not all the students are nobles.  I’m one who wasn’t.  Regardless of my status, I had the same training and education.  Lucky me.”

Jory fell silent after that.  The next night he took care of the mules. 

Taina clapped Alistair on his back.  “Good work, skyer.”

He shook his head.  “Not really.  I shouldn’t have to use my background to convince him to obey.”

“’Course you should.  Whatever it takes, isn’t that our motto?”

“No.  Duncan does say that, but the motto is:

_In war_ _, victory._

_In peace,_ _vigilance_ _._

_In death, sacrifice._

“Oh, that’s not so appealing.  Is that what’s on the wall in the mess at Denerim?”

Alistair chuckled.  “It is.”

“Shoulda figured all the writing said more than whatever it takes.”  Taina exchanged a look with Daveth.

“Hey, I don’t read any better than you.  I just agreed with what you said.”

“Whenever you’re ready….”  Alistair said, repeating an offer he had made in Denerim.

“Right.  Maybe we should let the skyer teach us, Daveth.”

**9:30 Dragon  6 Drakonis  ===   Ostagar**

Upon arrival at Ostagar, the group from Denerim set up their shelters within the grey wardens’ encampment in the upper ruins.  Duncan told Alistair to keep the recruits separate from the active warden camp until the Joining.  The other wardens, still actively patrolling the Wilds, used the same camp-set up years before at the base of the ruins. 

Once the recruits and Alistair unloaded their gear, Alistair asked Daveth to take the mules to the stable master and the remaining equipment to the quartermaster.

“And see that it all gets there, Daveth,” Taina shouted.  Daveth rewarded her with sidelong glance and a rude hand gesture.

While Daveth was gone, Taina, Jory, and Alistair finished setting up their camp.

“Ali,” a voice yelled. 

Taina looked up to see a human warrior approaching followed by an elf carrying a long bow.  Next to her, Alistair also looked up, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“Pery.  Eryhn.  I hoped you’d be in camp.”

“And here we are,” Eryhn bowed.

“Come, meet our newest recruits.  Taina, this is Eryhn, a fellow ex-templar.  This is Peryndel, or Pery, from Denerim.”

“The Denerim Alienage, to be specific,” Pery added.  “And you must be a dwarf.”

Taina laughed in spite of herself.  “Your powers of observation are astounding, Ser Elf.”  Taina turned and waved at Jory who stood on the other side of their small fire.  “That is Ser Jory, a knight from-“

“-Redcliffe.”  Jory said.  “You must be a knight Ser Eryhn?  Unlike Alistair who never achieved his knighthood.”

“I was a knight.  As would Alistair be, if he had not been conscripted before his knighthood ceremony.  Do you imply he’s something less because he did not take his vows?”

“I…no…I simply thought as knights-

“-I am a warden, Ser Jory.  I do not use Ser nor should you once you…”  she looked at Alistair, “…complete your initiation.”

“Of course, Se…Warden Eryhn.  I understand.”

“I hope so.  I would hate to find out you’ve given my good friend and brother any difficulty.”

Pery nudged Alistair.  “Good thing she likes you now.”

Alistair chuckled.  “Yeah, once they might have been allies and I would have been in trouble.”  He smirked.  “Course she likes you better.”

Pery cheeks turned pink as a wide grin spread across his face.  “As she should.  I’m charm and good looks personified.”

Alistair looked at his friend eyebrows raised. 

“What, I can’t improve my vocabulary?”  Pery’s eyes narrowed as watched Daveth approach.

“And who might you be?”  Daveth asked.  He walked up to Eryhn, grinning. 

Pery looked at Alistair.  “He’s a recruit too?”

“You know him?”  Alistair asked.

“I’ve seen him around Denerim.  We moved in some of the same…circles.  He thinks he’s quite the catch.”

“Yes, we noticed.  Taina befriended him, but quashed the amorous advances quickly.”

“This should be good.”  Pery continued to grin.

Daveth put his hand on Eryhn’s shoulder. 

“Remove your hand or it will be removed for you.”  Eryhn hissed placing her dagger on Daveth’s wrist.

“I…yes, done.”  Daveth stepped back and bumped into Pery.

“Not changed at all, eh Daveth?”

“You know him?”  Eryhn accused.

Pery grin turned into a smirk as Daveth’s eyes widened.  “You’re a warden?  We all thought you were dead.  None of the elves would say what happened.”

“Well, if you want to become a warden, I suggest you stop…flirting…with Eryhn.”

“Right.  I’ll back off.  I’m sure there are other women who will recognize my charm.”

The group all laughed. 

Daveth looked at Taina.  “Traitor, I can be charming.”

Taina patted him on the cheek.  “You can, Daveth, you just need to learn better timing and exercise better judgment.” 

**9:30 Dragon  Drakonis  ===   Ostagar**

Alistair, Pery, and Eryhn sat at a table in the dining tent quaffing ale and catching up.  The sun had not yet set.  This far south it remained light most of the night in summer.  At first, they had been lighthearted, glad to be together again.  Alistair recounted amusing anecdotes about his travels.  Then he mentioned the Deep Roads and the conversation turned serious.  Eryhn and Pery asked many questions about the Dwarven city and the Roads.

“Enough of my travels, what of your patrols here?”  Alistair took a draught of ale.  “I sense more darkspawn than ever since we arrived.  The feeling kept building as we came south.”  He looked down at his ale, smiling and shaking his head.  “I got a little testy and couldn’t explain.”  He looked up at his friends.  “I don’t remember feeling this many when Duncan and I left in Harvestmere.  It’s…creepy and disturbing.  I’m having a hard time getting used to it.  The only place I’ve sensed this many was in the Deep Roads.”

“You’ve been gone four months.  The hoard keeps increasing in size,” Pery said.  “We see more bands of them every patrol.”  He looked at Eryhn.  “I don’t notice a difference, but the increase was gradual.”

“Yeah, we probably just didn’t notice it building.  We’ve learned to shut it out most of the time.”  Eryhn wrinkled her nose.  “Still have dreams though.”

The two men nodded. 

“They didn’t go away when I was gone,” Alistair admitted.  “We both had them.  Have the bands changed?  More ogres or emissaries?”

“Genlocks and hurlocks make up most bands.  Warden Petyr thinks the Archdemon saves his ogres, emissaries and shrieks for major battles or critical attacks.”

“Yeah, like attacks on wardens,” Eryhn muttered.

“Have we lost many wardens?”

“Our patrol hasn’t lost any.  A few are hurt, but they’ll recover.  The other senior wardens don’t talk about it. We’ve heard two, but no names.  They build the pyres where they fall.  Each Senior Warden keeps his own counsel, but some complain that Duncan is away so long.  They say there should be a second in command, a Warden Constable.  Apparently Duncan thought it unnecessary with so few wardens in Fereldan.”

Alistair collected the cups and refilled them.  Returning he set them on the table and sat down.  “We left five wardens in Denerim.  They’ll close up the compound and march with the king.  Duncan thought they could provide warning, if the Archdemon decides to strike the army.  Once they arrive, we should have twenty-five or more.  It depends on how the Joining turns out I suppose.”  Alistair stared into the cup he held.

“You think the ale will answer that question?”  Pery asked.

“I let myself become friends with Taina.  Now I understand why Duncan keeps his distance.”  He looked at Eryhn and Pery.  “I know.  Any one of us could die any day, but….  I guess we’ll see.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Alistair sat at breakfast with Eryhn, Pery, and Taina.  The king’s troops had arrived the day before.  Their march from Denerim had been uneventful, so the troops said.  Alistair had kept his head down and his recruits busy, after their initial gawking.   Alistair had kept back and tried to avoid notice.  As the four discussed the day’s plans Senior Warden Petyr joined them. 

“I heard you discussing what to do with your Recruits, Warden Alistair.  Do you mind some advice?”

“No, Warden Petyr, I’d welcome it.  All the Senior Wardens, like you, have patrol duty.  I’ve had no one to ask.  Duncan said to wait, but nothing more.”  He shifted in his seat, his eyes going to Taina.

Taina got up.  “I get it.  Warden secrets.  I’ll let you talk.”

“Taina.”

She came back and put a hand on Alistair’s shoulder.  “I get it Alistair.  It’s fine.  Someday you’ll tell me all the secrets, just not today.”

Warden Petyr watched her join Daveth at his table.  “She’ll make a good warden.  I saw her sparring yesterday.”

“The best,” Alistair confirmed and then continued.  “Duncan said to wait and gather the darkspawn blood when he returned with more recruits.  I have these recruits sparring every morning.  We’ve explored the ruins.  Daveth and I hunted and brought back a deer and some small game for the cooks.  We’ve discussed the different kinds of darkspawn and how to fight them.  I’m running out of things to do.”

“Suppose you come on some patrols.”

“I think Duncan worried they would get tainted.  If he doesn’t return in time….”

“The king’s troops patrol the Wilds and have not had too many tainted troops.  It’s possible to keep safe.  You did on your trek here.  Daveth’s an archer, right?  He’ll be fine.  Taina too, if she’s careful and provides support from the flanks.  Jory’s more of a problem-“

Alistair, Eryhn, and Pery snickered at that.  Petyr rolled his eyes.

“-being a melee fighter who will engage them directly.”  Petyr continued.  “He’s arrogant, yes, but not what I meant.  He’ll just have to be careful.  He’s well armored.  If he keeps his mouth shut, wears his helmet, and cleans up immediately, he should be fine too.  We haven’t met many ogres, shrieks, or emissaries lately.  That worries me, but it makes patrolling less dangerous.”

“Worries you?  Why?”

“Wondering where they are.  What is the Archdemon saving them for?  Will the attack come here or somewhere else?  Will the Archdemon show itself?”

“Lots of questions.”  Alistair rubbed his hands through his short hair, mussing the front.

“Too many.  Anyway, bring your recruits to our camp.  We’ll have a training session this afternoon.  My wardens play the part of darkspawn quite well.  If Duncan’s not here when we head out in a few days, you can all come along.”

Alistair grinned.  “Sounds good.  Thank you Warden Petyr.”

Petyr got up.  “When did you last have time off, Warden?”

“Time off?  I haven’t been doing anything important.”

“You need a break from your recruits, I think.  You know everything we’ll teach them.  Wardens Eryhn and Pery can escort your charges.  You take the time to yourself.”  He held up a hand.  “No objections, Warden.  You’re due.  You’ve done a good job getting them here.”  He laughed.  “It’s only a brief reprieve, Warden, just a few turns of the glass without them.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Alistair watched his three recruits follow Eryhn to Warden Petyr’s patrol area in the valley below.  He sat by the fire wondering what to do with his free time _.  I haven’t been alone since those first weeks in Denerim after Duncan conscripted me.  It seems strange.  I have armor to clean, weapons to sharpen and I should bring my journal up to date.  Duncan may want a report when he returns._   As he stood to gather his sword, honing stone, cloth, and oil someone walked into the area behind him.

“Warden Alistair,” a deep voice said.

“Teyrn Loghain.”  Alistair saluted Ferelden’s general.  “How can I be of service?”

“Duncan has not yet arrived?”

“No, Your Grace.”

“When do you expect him?”

“I…he did not give a specific date, Your Grace.  He brings more recruits from Highever and the Circle Tower.  We came from Denerim.”

“So Duncan travels through Redcliffe?”

“I don’t know, Your Grace.  He didn’t say he would stop there.”

Loghain sat on a log by the fire and motioned Alistair to join him.

“And how are you?”

“Me?  Fine, Your Grace.”

“You brought the new recruits from Denerim?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Good.  It’s good Duncan gives you responsibility.  You always had promise.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”  Alistair stretched his legs out and looked toward the fire.  “At least as a warden I serve a good purpose.”

“If that purpose is killing darkspawn, yes.  If it’s serving Orlais, then it’s no better than the Chantry.”

“I don’t serve Orlais, Your Grace.”  Alistair looked back at Loghain.

“No?  You haven’t met with Orlesian wardens?  No Orlesians at Highever?”

“No, Your Grace.  No Orlesians at Highever.  There was an Orlesian in Orzammar, but we have a compound there.  Wardens from all over Thedas can often be found in Orzammar.  They did not come to Ferelden with us.”

Loghain raised an eyebrow.  “Orlesians in Orzammar?  How do they get there?  Do they come in through the Deep Roads?”

“I don’t know Your Grace.”  _Makers Toenails, he_ _’s just pumping me for information.  I’m an idiot._

“You don’t lie well, Alistair.”

“I haven’t seen or used a Deep Roads passage to Orlais, Your Grace.”

Loghain glared at him _._   “Have you spoken with anyone who has?” 

“It’s not a question I asked.  That there is such a passage would be a natural assumption.  The roads spread throughout the Frostbacks, but they are not easily traveled.  The dwarves do not let just anyone in.  You need a pass to enter from Orzammar.  I am told that passages to the outside are blocked and sealed.  There are darkspawn, cave-ins, giant spiders, deepstalkers and other creatures…only the Legion of the Dead travels the Roads with any success.”  He held Loghain’s gaze.  “But you know all this, Your Grace.  You’ve been there.”

Loghain frowned.  What Alistair said fit his experience in the Deep Roads.  Yet he knew Duncan conspired with Orlesian wardens.  _Duncan and that Orlesian warden, Riordan, meet regularly.  He sneaks in somehow._ Loghain rubbed his neck.“The Chantry wanted to use you, Alistair.  Be careful the wardens don’t do the same.  Orlesian Wardens serve their Empress and, make no mistake, Duncan takes his orders from Montsimmard.”

Alistair closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  “I haven’t left Ferelden, Your Grace.  Nor do I intend to.  No one knows who I am.  Only Duncan.  I matter to no one.”

Loghain stared at him.  “Don’t be a fool, boy.  Your blood always mattered.  If your fool of a brother gets himself killed here, it could matter to Orlais more than ever.”

“Killed!  How…I mean why?  You sound like he intends it.”

“No.  He’s just fascinated by this whole thing.  Wardens.  Darkspawn.  The Archdemon.  A Blight.”  Loghain stared at the young man he had once cared for.  “He even brought Maric’s sword.  He wants to us it to kill the Archdemon.  He claims it will be _glorious_.”

“But, a warden usually kills the Archdemon.  At least that’s what the histories say.  We can get closer.  He shouldn’t be fighting with us.”

Loghain stared at him a long time.  “No, Alistair, he shouldn’t, but he’s determined to lead from the front.”

“Maybe he thinks that’s what his father would have done.”

Loghain’s mouth quirked up.  “He would have, but times were different during the Rebellion.  The army needed to see its king.  Later, in the final battles after River Dane, he was more careful.  We both were.  Fortunate that,”  Loghain spoke quietly, almost to himself.  “Neither of us was at White River.”

Alistair cocked his head.  “Right.  King Maric, the Reticent.  That’s why he challenged Meghren to single combat.”

Loghain chuckled.  “I was furious with him for doing that, but Meghren was not an accomplished warrior.  Maric was.  That was less dangerous than it would seem.”  Loghain stared at the ground.  “Still, you have a point. Cailan may have that in mind, not understanding the differences.”

“Explain to it to him.”

Loghain laughed, but it came out as a croak.  “He won’t listen to me, Alistair.”  Loghain turned to look at the young man sitting next to him.  He squeezed Alistair’s shoulder.  “I’ll try, but sometimes he listens to no one.  Not even Anora.”  With that, he got up and left.

Alistair sat unmoving, elbows on his thighs, head in his hands.  _So much for time off.  I wish they would just leave me alone._  

**9:20 Dragon  20 Drakonis  ===  Ostagar**

The afternoon sun slanted across the open area Alistair had designated as a practice yard for his recruits.  He extended a hand to Taina, who had just yielded.  Jory watched.  Daveth had gone to practice at the archery range.

“Warden Alistair?”

Alistair turned to see a king’s guard approach.  “Yes, can I be of service?”

“His Majesty has requested you join him in his tent.”

Alistair just stared at the messenger.  _First Loghain, now Cailan.  Can’t my past stay past?_

Taina poked him.  “Talk to him, cloudhead!”

“Right.”  He looked down at his dusty practice armor.  “Now?  I’ve just been sparring.  I’m not exactly presentable.”

“Now, Warden.  Please come with me.”

Alistair took a deep breath and followed him.  When he arrived, the knight attending the king waved him into the tent.  Cailan sat at his camp desk.  He looked up smiling.

“Alistair.  Thank you for coming.”

Alistair bowed with arms crossed over his chest.  “Your Majesty, how can I be of service?”

“You can sit down and call me Cailan, brother.”  Cailan pointed towards a chair. 

Alistair noticed a meal spread out on the nearby camp table.  _Maker’s Knobby Knees, he wants a family visit._

“I thought you might enjoy a better dinner than you must get in the warden mess.  I’d enjoy the company.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”  He pointed to his dusty armor.  “I’m afraid I’m not presentable.”

Cailan regarded him.  “Cailan.  That’s an order.  And you’re fine.  It’s a soldiers' camp not the Great Hall in the Royal Palace.”

Alistair took another deep breath.  “Cailan.”

“If you want to clean up, however, use my private quarters.”  Cailan pointed behind him with a thumb.  “Samson,” Cailan called, “bring some water for my…for Warden Alistair to use.”

As Alistair stood, a young man entered the tent with a bucket of steaming water.  An elf followed with another bucket.  Alistair joined the procession into the king’s private quarters.  The warm water went into a large basin sitting on a small table.  The elf added a little of the cool water.

“If you need it cooler, Ser, there’s a ladle in the bucket.  Soap and a clean cloth are on the table.”

“Thank you.”  Alistair wiped his face and neck clean with the cloth, then washed his hands and lower arms.  Finally, he rubbed the cloth through his hair.  A metal mirror hung on the tent pole by the table.  He check for dirt spots he might have missed, then combed through his hair with his fingers.  Finally, he rubbed his splint mail, removing any loose dirt.  _That will have to do._   He joined Cailan in the main chamber.  


“Thank, you, Yo…Cailan.” 

“Yo, Cailan is still not the best way to greet your king, Alistair.”  Both men smiled slightly remembering another meeting long ago.  “Even if I am your brother.  Try Ho, it’s more acceptable.”

Alistair smiled widened.  “I’ll be sure to do that, Cailan.”  Alistair poured two cups of wine and handed one to Cailan.  


“Thank you.” Cailan stood putting the wine cup down.  “Please, serve yourself.  I’ve asked that we be left alone.” 

“Shall I serve you?”

“No, Alistair. I can manage a ladle.”  Cailan  smirked.  “You can cut the bread and cheese.  I’m not sure you can trust me with a knife.”

“And you think you can trust me?  I’m rather fond of cheese you know. I might not leave much.”

Cailan smiled as he filled his bowl.  “Serve me right.”  He clapped Alistair on the shoulder.  “We should have been doing this years ago.”

Alistair frowned.  “Maybe we should just enjoy a dinner tonight.” Alistair sat down in the camp chair across the table from Cailan.

“Maybe, but I don’t always do the wise thing, as Loghain would be sure to tell you.”  Cailan mouth formed a lopsided grin.  “Alistair, I want to…apologize.  Too late, I know.”  Cailan shook his head once.  “After father died, nothing worked out as he or I intended.  Loghain left.  I made mistakes.  Acted too late.”  He smiled.  “Didn’t listen to Anora.  I suppose going into intentions and reasons…that serves no purpose now, but I am sorry.  I had intended things to work out quite differently.”

Alistair shrugged.  “I’m a warden now.  I serve a purpose.  Duncan saved me from a life I did not want as a Templar.  You supported my conscription.  I try not to think about the past.”

Cailan drained his wine cup.  “So no regrets.  No resentments.”

“I didn’t say that…Cailan.”

“You sound like you’re practicing my name.”

Alistair flushed.  “I suppose I am.”

“So what do you regret or resent?”

“I said I try not to think about it.  I try not to wonder if anyone has ever been a friend.  If anyone ever cared about me as anything other than an inconvenient bastard they feared would end up in Orlais…and threaten your rule.”  Alistair stopped.  “I’m sorry, I suppose that’s a little too much honesty.”

Cailan sat back in his chair.  “No, it’s fair.  I imagine I would wonder the same in your place.  I can assure you the Couslands cared.  If Teyrn Cousland had been advising me after Father’s death things might have been different.  Anora always wanted you acknowledged.  Loghain?  He left all of us.  He remains obsessed with Orlais.  He cares about no one anymore as far as I can tell.  Not even Anora.  Or Elin.  Some of us did care, Alistair.  We just acted too slowly.”  He leaned forward, arms on the table.  “When nothing else worked, I asked Duncan to recruit you.”

Alistair sat up.  “He never told me that.”

“No, well, he wouldn’t.  I asked him not to.  The Grand Cleric was angry enough without adding me to the mix.  We watched you in the Chantry, you know.  Even I couldn’t get in to see you.”

“You tried?”

“I did.  I watched you teach.  You did well with the initiates.  Duncan watched you too, once.  He could see you would be good.  I asked the Arms Master to help if he could.”

“Arms Master Quentin did.  He gave me a place to practice in secret.  I would never have made it past the first round if he hadn’t.”

“Good.  I’m glad I rewarded him.  If nothing else he got the armor to you for the second day.”

“I owe you thanks then.  I am not sure how much longer  I would have survived the Denerim Chantry.”

“Grand Cleric Elemena planned to send you to Orlais.”

“I thought that might be the plan.  I wouldn’t have cooperated.”

“They would have found a way I’m afraid.”

“Maybe I would have too.”  He looked at Cailan and shrugged.  “Maybe not.  I’d have tried.” 

Calian nodded.  “You deserved better from all of us.  You’re an uncle, you know.”

Alistair mouth quirked up.  “I’d heard that.”

“She’s amazing, Alistair.  I’ve never loved anyone so much.”

“I’m glad for you and Her Majesty.  Queen Anora was always kind to me.”

“You’ll see what it’s like one day.  Marry a fellow warden, perhaps.”

Alistair grew serious again.  “Not much of a life for family, Cailan.  I doubt it.”  _Time to change the subject._   “I met Fergus Cousland’s son.  He seemed a fine boy.”

Cailan brightened.  “Oren, yes a fine boy.  Fergus took to fatherhood well.”

They ate in silence for a few moments.

“Fergus has been telling me how you are.  I wanted to visit you sooner, but Duncan…asked, well in a gentle way ordered, me to give you time to adjust and complete your initiation.  I decided I had waited long enough.”

“I enjoyed my talks with Fergus.  And meeting Oren.  I would have enjoyed seeing you as well.”

“We’ll make a point of visits when this is over.”  Cailan grinned.  “You must meet Elin.  Anora would like to see you too.”

“I look forward to that, Cailan.”

Alistair sipped his wine while Cailan finished his stew.  _If we…I survive.  It’s likely he’ll forget once this is over._  

“Your…Cailan, I should get back to my recruits.  I’m afraid I’m in charge of them until Duncan returns.”

Cailan nodded.  “I understand.”  They both stood.  Cailan came around the desk.  He held out his hand for Alistair to grasp.  When he did, he pulled Alistair towards him and wrapped his other arm around his shoulders.  “I am sorry, brother.  You deserved so much better.  We both did.  I didn’t lie all those years ago when I told you I would like having a brother.  Father…he never explained, but keeping you away was a mistake.”

Alistair hugged him back.  “Thank you for this Cailan.”  He stepped back as Cailan released his hold.  Their hands still grasping each other as blue eyes looked into hazel ones..  “Don’t try to be a hero Cailan.  Stay safe for Ferelden and your wife and daughter.”

Cailan laughed.  “Did Loghain pay you to say that?”

“No.  I just suspect you would try to lead from the front.  It’s a brave thing to do, but don’t be brave.  Ferelden needs a king, not a dead hero.  There’s no glory in dying.  Let the wardens do that.  It’s our job.  You saved me from Orlais.  Make sure you don’t lose Ferelden to Orlais by dying.”

“You do sound like Loghain.  Not that he’s wrong about Orlais.  Just wrong about blaming Orlais for the Blight threat and keeping the wardens out.”

“Loghain blames Orlais for the Blight?  That’s…crazy.”

“When it comes to Orlais, Loghain is crazy.  Do you believe it’s a Blight?”

“I do.  It’s…we can sense it.  Sense that there’s an Archdemon.  It’s hard to explain.”

“Now you sound like Duncan.”  He squeezed Alistair’s shoulder.  “If we get a chance before the battle we should do this again.  Otherwise, I’ll see you in Denerim.”

“Visits would be nice, but….”  He frowned.  “Cailan, I want to keep my identity, my father, secret.  Only Duncan knows.  Can we keep it that way?”

“I think that’s best too.  You’re Duncan’s adjutant.  I’ll have him assign you as liaison to work with Fergus.  We can meet based on that.” 

“Makes sense.”  Alistair  bowed and started towards the outside.

“Take care, brother.  ”Alistair turned back smiling and saluted again.  “You too, Cailan.  And remember, no heroics.”    


**9:30 Dragon  21 Drakonis  ===   Ostagar**

While Duncan and Liam walked from Redcliffe to Ostagar, Fergus traveled down the West Road to Lothering with his forces and arrived at the ancient ruins tired, but having experienced no mishaps or darkspawn attacks.

“Ho, Fergus!”

“Your Majesty.”

“Good to see you and your troops.  Maker, they just keep coming.  Glorious.  Where’s your father?  And Arl Howe?  I see no bears on the shields.”

“Your Majesty.”  Fergus bowed.  “We delayed our departure several days to wait for Amaranthine, but Arl Howe sent word of delays.  He claimed bad weather slowed his muster on the Feravel Plain.  He sent a messenger to advise us he could not arrive before the seventh or eighth, so we left without him.  My father and his personal guard stayed behind to ride with Amaranthine.  We expected them to catch us up at West Hill, but they never did.  I swear Howe’s troops must be walking backwards.”

“Well, you’re here.  Loghain will be thrilled.  He can plan his strategies, knowing the North supports the war.  He’s been wondering whether you would bring your mages and your mounted troops.” 

“We brought both.  We’ll do what we can with our horse, but until they become accustom to darkspawn, the horses might spook.  If needs be, our mounted troops can fight on foot.”

Cailan laughed.  “No tame darkspawn to use for training?”

Fergus forced a smile.  “No, none handy.”  _He’_ _s worried.  He_ _’s too cheerful, even for Cailan._

Cailan notice Fergus glancing over his shoulder as the last of the Highever forces passed.  “Get your troops settled Fergus, then join me in my tent for dinner.  I could use a friendly face at table.  Someone who won’t bore me with strategies while we eat.”

Fergus frowned.  “Are you and Teyrn Loghain at odds again, Your Majesty?”

“When aren’t we?  He refuses to allow the Orlesian wardens through.  I finally ordered him open Gherlen’s pass to wardens only.  He sent the order by way of Par Vollen I think.  He refuses to listen to the wardens and admit this is a Blight.  Even claims Orlais uses the darkspawn as a means to send chevaliers across the border.”

“Is it a Blight?”

“We’re not sure.  The wardens say so, but we’ve seen no dragon.  I rather hoped it was.  I brought father’s sword.  I thought I’d use it to kill the fiend.”  He grinned.  “Imagine the stories.  King Cailan slaying the fiend and ending the Blight.”

“You do that and we’ll experience your pyre.  Don’t be a…you shouldn’t try to be heroic.”

“Don’t be a fool Cailan?”

“I didn’t-

“-no you caught yourself.”

Fergus shifted from one foot to the other and glanced again over his shoulder.

“You’re not the first to warn me to be cautious.  My brother did as well.”  He clapped Fergus on the shoulder.  “Go.  See your men settled.  We can speak more tonight.” 

Yes, Your Majesty.  Thank you.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Cailan got up from his desk to greet his friend.  “You’re looking better, Fergus.”

“Isn’t it amazing what a basin of hot water and clean clothes can do?”  Fergus spread out his arms showing off his leather breeches, fine embroidered tunic, and leather vest.  He carried a small dagger at his waist. 

“Is that Oriana’s work?”

“Call me sentimental.”

“It’s lovely.”  Cailan grinned.  “You smell better too.”

“Ah, that’s the herbs Lys gave me to put into the hot water.  Supposed to make you feel refreshed, but they do leave a scent.”

“Your sister has many talents.  Anora will miss her.”

Fergus’ smile faded.  “She’ll miss Ferelden, Your Majesty.”

Cailan’s brow furrowed briefly.  _Not a topic I wanted to delve into._ “We all serve Ferelden in different ways, Fergus.”

“That we do.  She’ll do her duty and do it well.  Fortunately, de Rievaulx seems a decent man.”  Fergus smiled.  “I hope you left our Queen and Princess well?”

Cailan hesitated, not sure how much to confide.  Fergus was the closest thing he had to a friend, but he might not sympathize.  He probably spent an idyllic last night with his wife and son and the rest of the Cousland clan.  Cailan had regretted not returning to Anora’s rooms as soon as he woke up.  By then, however, the night was over and his army awaited.  He had written an apology, but had not signed the second declaration.  He had only written that he was sorry they had argued instead of being together on the last night before his departure.  Anora should have it by now.  _I did sign the damned declaration naming her regent with Loghain and Bryce should I die.  Why does she always have to win.  She arranges compromises with every fool bann, but she won’t compromise with me._

“I did.  She and her ladies sent us off from the battlements.  I’ve had a letter telling me she and Elin miss me, but carry on.”

“Her Majesty represents you well when you’re gone.”

Cailan leaned back against the edge of the desk.  “She represents me well when I’m there.  I’m fortunate.  I have no worries when I leave her to deal with irritable nobles and whining banns.  She has a way that I lack, of conciliating both sides.”

Fergus raised an eyebrow. 

“I know, you’re wondering who I am and where Cailan went.”  He shrugged.  “I can be introspective at times.  I’m done now.  It’s time to eat, drink, and be merry.”

“You do know the end of that phrase?”

Cailan laughed.  “We won’t die tomorrow or next week or next month Fergus.  Our fathers survived the Rebellion, assassination attempts, and, in my father’s case, the Deep Roads.  Twice.  Loghain and your father still live.  We have years of danger and glory ahead of us before we succumb.  For now we can enjoy what my cook has prepared for us.”  Cailan waved his arm across the smaller table to his right.  On it, steam rose from a covered kettle a servant had just placed there.  Its aroma promised a stew.  A wheel of cheese and a large loaf of dark bread lay next to the kettle.  The servant poured two cups of wine.  More bottles of wine, whiskey, and brandy stood ready. 

“I’ll not turn down wine and good food, Your Majesty.”

“Fergus, let’s forget the Your Majesty tonight.  Let’s just be Cailan and Fergus like the old days.”

“As you wish,” Fergus grinned.  “Your Majesty…erm…Cailan.”

“I should make you my Chancellor.”

“Me!”

“Why not.  Father had men his own age to advise him.  I’m sick of listening to Eamon.  Who has yet to arrive, by the way.”  He looked at Fergus and laughed.  “Right, you’d outrank your father.  That could be awkward.  Still, you get along with Loghain and you father and me and Anora.  I can’t think of anyone else who does that.”

“Queen Anora?”

“Not with her father, of late.”

“And you think I will?  I happen to agree with you.  We need more wardens and Orlais is closest.  Duncan said he would send to Cumberland, but I don’t know when the next Haris ship was due.  He left the letter with mother and Lys.”

“You said he traveled with you as far as the Tower?”

“Yes.  He sent the Highever recruit with me.  He’s one of our knights.  He went off to find Alistair when we arrived.”

“I had dinner with my brother the other night.”

“You did!  How did that go?”

“Well.  He was somewhat distant, but friendly.  I can’t blame him.”

“You tried Cailan.  You and Anora both.”

“Too late.”

“You couldn’t know that.  You didn’t send him to Dragon’s Peak or leave him there.  You had to deal with the problems others left you.”

“I did.  It was my father’s doing.  And Loghain’s, for not objecting more strenuously.”  Cailan ran a finger around the rim of a half full wine cup.  “He could have kept Alistair as his squire.  Father would have complained, but accepted it.  He disagreed with father about other things.  I don’t know why he was so obedient about Alistair.”  He swallowed the remaining wine in one gulp.  “Water under the bridge.  Alistair’s fine now.  He looked well.  Duncan’s given him responsibilities.  We agreed to keep in touch.  I’m going to ask Duncan to make him the warden’s liaison with you.  I’ll be able to see him more frequently that way.”

_And Lys won_ _’t be in Denerim to cause complications._ “I’m glad you cleared the air, Cailan.  It must be a relief to both of you.”  _I wonder if Alistair thinks the same?_

 Fergus started to ask about the darkspawn and patrols, but Cailan cut him off.

“We can discuss all that in the morning.  Tell me news of Highever and your family.  How do Lys and her betrothed get along.  I hear he will stay at Castle Cousland until the wedding.”  Cailan leaned back and put his feet up on the table, legs crossed.  “We need to end this and return in time for the Summerday celebrations.  Can you imagine the memorable festivities, when we return to announce a glorious victory over these monsters.  The bards will sing about us before Summerday is over.”

**9:30 Dragon  25 Drakonis  ===  Ostagar**

Fergus had heard raised voices as he approached Cailan’s tent.  Loghain’s angry rumble was unintelligible, but Cailan’s tenor rang out clearly.

“Loghain, I tire of your endless strategies.  You complain we have too few troops, but refuse to wait for reinforcements from Redcliffe.  Duncan tells me he needs more wardens, but you delay my orders to let wardens enter from Orlais.  Either your strategies will work with the troops we have or they won’t.  If they won’t, then we should wait.”

He heard Loghain’s voice rumble what he took to be an impatient response, but the voices became silent when Ser Elric Maraigne announced Fergus.

Fergus nodded to Ser Maraigne wondering, not for the first time, at the Honor Guard’s Orlesian surname.  _Probably the child of one of the few Orlesians who remained in Ferelden and renounced their allegiance to Orlais._   A few minor Orlesian knights, who had married to Fereldan heiresses, held large farmholds.  When no other Fereldan claimants appeared after the Rebellion, King Maric had decided the Orlesians could stay rather than letting the lands lie fallow.  Ferelden needed its lands to be productive to recover from the Occupation.  He recalled Loghain claiming many of these Orlesians and their half Orlesian children belonged to the Society for Trade and Culture.  Loghain accused the Society of furthering Orlesian schemes within Ferelden, but no claims were ever proven.   

Fergus pushed back the flap and entered the tent.  Cailan sat behind his campaign desk.  Loghain sat to one side in a camp chair.  Barely greeting him, Loghain ordered Fergus to gather his horse troops and ride out at dawn the next day.  Loghain’s brusque tone and the content his orders astonished Fergus.  He confronted Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir. 

“I am no scout, Loghain.  Why would you send me?” 

“Fergus, we need to know the size of the Horde.” Loghain stood and started pacing.  “We need a reconnaissance in force, not a scouting mission likely to be wiped out before it can return.  We need the information quickly.  A reconnaissance on horseback can best accomplish both goals.  We don’t want you to engage the Horde, unless they attack you, just determine its size and the direction in which it marches.  Then get back to us so we can finalize our plan.  Your Highever horse troops are Ferelden’s best.”

“They’re Ferelden’s only horse troops,” Fergus muttered.

Cailan chuckled, then held up his hands in surrender as Loghain glared at him.

“Horses and darkspawn, Loghain?  I’m not sure we can control our mounts once they sense ‘spawn.  We’ll have to fight on foot.  We’ll likely lose our mounts when we do.”

“Not if you ride away, Fergus.  I don’t want you to fight.  I want intelligence.  The speed and maneuverability of mounted troops will benefit your mission.”

“Right.  In the Wilds.”  Fergus remembered that Loghain and Maric had spent time in the Wilds after Queen Moira’s assassination.  “You’ve spent time in the Wilds.  Can we move quickly on horseback?”

“In the parts I’m familiar with, yes.  The Dalish move their aravels through the Wilds.  You just need to watch out for ponds and swampy areas.  Send scouts ahead.  They can alert you, so you can ride around the swamps.  There are many trails used by the Dalish and Chasind.”

Cailan cut in, “We will also send wardens with you.  They say they can sense the darkspawn, so you won’t be surprised.”

Loghain voice rose, “Cailan, is that necessary?  I don’t want traitors at Fergus’ back.”

“Loghain, our wardens are not traitors.  Wardens will accompany Fergus.  I’ve made my decision.  We’ll send two of the new recruits and Senior Warden Petyr.  I’ve already spoken to him.  He agreed and said Wardens Eryhn and Peryndel would go with him.  Said it made sense and he’d explain to Duncan later.”

Loghain nodded grudgingly.  “At least Warden Eryhn will be trustworthy.”  He looked at Fergus.  “She’s a former templar from Highever.  The other is a Fereldan elf from Denerim.  The senior wardens are not Fereldan, although I think this Petyr is Nevarran.”

“I’ve met Warden Petyr.  He’s a good man and Nevarran as you say.” _If only Loghain could rise above his constant preoccupation with Orlais,_ Fergus thought.  _The Blight is the greater threat right now.  How can he and Cailan lead this army if they’re always disagreeing?  Perhaps I’m better out of here and in the Wilds.  Maybe father can create some unity of purpose when he arrives._

“I’ll ready my troops to leave the morning.  We’ll make a sweep around the Horde if we can.  I’ll send messengers back each day.  I hope it will only take a few days.  If I don’t return in four or five days….”  He didn’t express what they all knew that would mean.  If he could not ride around the Horde in five days, it would mean a huge Horde of darkspawn was e bearing down on Ostagar.  A Horde larger than the assembled army could defeat.

  **9:30 Dragon  17 Drakonis  ===  In the Bannorn**

Jowan shivered.  He and Reina had walked in a stream for most of the day, following it northeast until grew too large and fast for safety.  They climbed up a rocky bank and found shelter beneath an overhang.

“We could build a small fire.  Just enough to warm us.”

“No. Do you want to be found?”  Reina leaned against the west facing cliff face.  “The rocks are warm Jowan.  We’ll dry off enough before nightfall.  Once it’s dark we can move on.  For all we know there’s a farmhold nearby.  Do you want them to smell the fire?”

“No.”

“Good.  From what I remember of the maps I’ve seen, the river ahead is the River Dane.  It won’t be easily crossed.  We should go farther north for a few days.  It should narrow nearer its source or we’ll find a boat.  Then you can cross and go where you will.  I’ll stay on the west bank and continue north.”

“Where should I go?”

“I have no idea Jowan.  This is _your_ escape.  Do what you will.”  _I’ve heard the Coastlands are friendlier to mages, but that’s my destination.  I’m not sharing that with Jowan.  If I can get there, perhaps I can work something out._   _I’m a healer.  I know herbs and potions.  I could be useful.  “_ Perhaps you should head south, Jowan, they’ll be looking for mages to fight the darkspawn.  Maybe they won’t care where you come from if you volunteer.”

“Fight!”

“Just a thought.  Once you’re rid of me and the threat my phylactery poses, you should be fine.  You could get work as a farm hand.  It must be planting season or at in at an inn.  Claim to be a refugee from the fighting.”

“Work.  I’ve never done work, not farm work or the like.”

“Well, if you want to eat, you’ll have to work. “  Reina closed her eyes.  “Now I’m tired.  Keep quiet and sleep.  We’ll leave after sunset.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Wow! Strong reactions to Jowan in Chapter 66. I couldn’t get into my whole Jowan backstory or the Jowan/Reina friendship in a single chapter – maybe some one-shots at some point?
> 
> I see Jowan as Liam and Irving describe him: average magic ability, lazy, manipulative, whiny, self-absorbed, sarcastic, but having a sense of humor, occasional charm and a sweet smile one rarely sees. He’s impulsive and rarely considers the consequences of his actions.
> 
> He sees his friendship with Reina slipping away as she progresses. He latches onto Lily and she to him and they enable each other. About the same time he gets involved with blood magic as an easy way to improve his own magic – altho’ he’s not really clear how, since he must keep it secret. In part it’s the invitation to join a special group that attracts him. He’s thought neither plan through.   
> Everything that happens during the escape is impulse fueled by rage, adrenalin and, in spite of accusing her of betrayal, his underlying trust of Reina. Reina is right there as he runs away – wrong place wrong time. She’s a person to blame. Also a person who can help and a friend he trusts. Contradictory, yes. He’s not rational at this point. He grabs her. While she hesitates to use her magic and hurt Jowan or the apprentices looking on, he doesn’t. Once they get to shore, he deflates – the adrenalin dissipates and his blood magic doesn’t help. Lily had the plan, so he’s lost again. Reina, his friend, is with him and he turns to her to take the lead , expecting the forgiveness she’s always offered in the past. He’s surprised when she doesn’t this time. He’ll resent that and insist they split up. The templars do have HER phylactery.
> 
> AND, on another front, maeves-child created a marvelous portrait of Lys at 20 which you can find on my tumblr blog: melysandecousland.tumblr.com/post/85215386736/maeves-child-melysande-lys-cousland or on DeviantArt: maeveschild.deviantart.com/art/Melysande-Cousland-452959904. Don’t forget to delete the .
> 
> Thank you for reading. I hope you continue to enjoy. If you have time, reviews, short or long, are always welcome!
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eyes. Her astute comments improve every post. Any errors are all mine.
> 
> Thanks to those who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. Special thanks to those who reviewed or commented: Arsinoe de Blassenville, clafount, Mike3207, ElyssaCousland, ChaoticHarmony, dustywalker, caraine, and SnowHelm. You inspire me and make me think. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback.


	68. Wait, I Know You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:30 Dragon Drakonis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world. Stories sometimes incorporate game dialogue, although not always in its original context. Either way, that dialogue belongs to Bioware.  
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgo  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

 **Chapter 68** **– WAIT, I KNOW YOU**

* * *

  **9:30 Dragon  27 Drakonis  ===  Ostagar**

To Alistair, Fergus’ mission had seemed both necessary and disturbing.  Necessary to gain more knowledge about the size of the horde.  Disturbing because he had not chance to speak with Fergus.  Fergus had nodded to Alistair when he came to the Highever encampment to say good bye to his friends, but had not stopped to talk.  Wardens Petyr, Eryhn, and Pery, along with two Highever mages, rode out in the front with Lord Fergus and his officers.  Now Alistair had watched the troop of horses file by, rank after rank.  He recalled riding with Lys many years before and trying to shoot from horseback.  Her vision of mounted archers had come to pass in Highever.  More than thirty mounted archers followed the sixty or so knights and mounted troops.  He hoped he would see them again when the battle ended, but knew full well many would never return.

Duncan and Liam arrived at Ostagar the day after Fergus and his troops entered the Korcari Wilds.  Duncan’s arrival provided a needed diversion for Alistair.  He saw Duncan striding past the king’s tent, but before he could reach Duncan’s encampment, a Chantry sister blocked his path. 

“You, Initiate.”

Alistair looked around for the templar, sister, or brother the woman addressed.

“Yes, you, boy,” she snapped catching Alistair’s eye. “I need a message carried to one of the Mages, Enchanter Marius.  The Revered Mother needs to speak with him.”

“I’m a Grey Warden-“

“-I know who you are.  You’re a templar initiate stolen by the wardens over Her Reverence’s objection.  Now take the message to the mage.”

Alistair sighed.  This happened every so often.  A sister or priest would demand he follow their orders.  Duncan had said not to antagonize anyone and that included the Chantry.  “Yes, Sister.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

The Enchanter brushed by Liam, snapping at him to get out of the way.  _Nice to see you too, Marius._ Liam turned toward the Grey Warden.  Alistair had grown from the somewhat gangly youth Liam had met three years ago, into a tall, muscular warrior. 

Alistair looked from the departing mage to the younger one approaching him.  _Now what?_   _Am I to have conversations with every mage and Chantry sister in Ostagar?_   _Don’t give them ammunition against us, Duncan said._   He forced a smile as the mage walked towards him.  “One good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together.”

“Alistair?”  Liam realized the young warden did not recognize him.  “Duncan told me to find you.”  He notice Alistair’s shoulder slump slightly, then straighten.

“You’re a mage too.  Do you have an errand for me?” 

“My robe give me away?  Or was it the staff?”  Liam returned a lopsided smile.  “Don’t mind Enchanter Marius.  He gives everyone a hard time.  It wasn’t personal.”

“He was….wait!  I know you.  Enchanter Liam right?”  Alistair lips relaxed into a genuine smile.

“Right.  You’re Ser Cullen’s friend.  The last time we met you were a templar.”

“Initiate, but perhaps that’s splitting hairs to a mage.”

“A mage and a Grey Warden recruit, actually.”

“ _You’re_ Duncan’s recruit from the Tower of Magi?  Well that’s…good news.  Welcome.  As I recall, you’re a powerful healer.”

“Primarily a Healer, yes, and a good one.”  Liam grinned.  “Modest too.” 

They both chuckled.

“I have learned some cold spells and my second area of expertise is Entropy, so Duncan seems to think I can be useful.”

“Refresh my memory, Entropy is hexes and sleep?

“Paralysis and Draining too.”

“Right.  I should go back are read my magic lessons.”

“Now you’re a Grey Warden templar?”

“I’m a Grey Warden with templar skills.  I’m not a templar.  Duncan conscripted me before I took any vows.  I got lucky.  Killing darkspawn appeals much more than hunting mages.”

“How so?”

“Well, darkspawn are monsters who serve no useful purpose and deserve killing.  Mages are people, who serve many useful purposes, and deserve to live.”

Liam grinned.  “Eases my mind, warden.  So, I’ve found you.  What happens now?”

“We find Duncan and the other recruits.”

“What about this initiation?  Duncan called it The Joining.”

“Ummm…well that will become clear when Duncan talks to you.  I can’t really explain right now.”  He rubbed his hand through his hair.  “Look, if you haven’t any more questions, Enchanter Liam, let’s go find Duncan.”

As they walked, Liam asked about the other recruits.  “Duncan didn’t say much.  Only that he’d sent one recruit from Highever with the Teyrn’s troops and that you brought three more from Denerim.

“Ser Rory Gilmore is the knight from Highever who arrived with Lord Fergus a few days ago.  He’s at our camp.”

“Taina Brosca is a dwarf from Orzammar.  An amazing duel wielder and a good friend.  We’ve traveled together the longest.”

“Daveth, a _fellow_ from Denerim, is right over there annoying the warrior,” Alistair said pointing at a young man chatting up a female warrior.  “He’s skilled, but a bit rough around the edges.”  Alistair laughed.  “I could say that about Taina too, she was Carta in Orzammar, but she just has more polish.”

“Carta…the dwarven crime syndicate?”

“Yup.  She impersonated a knight, beat every comer in their Proving, which is like a Tourney, and they were going to execute her for it.  Apparently, it’s against every law in the books for a casteless dwarf to so much as step onto the Proving Grounds.  Duncan conscripted her.  Best thing he’s done.  She’s great.”  He looked around.  “I’m not sure where Ser Jory is.”

Liam stopped.  “Should we look for him, Ser Alistair?”

“No,no, no…not Ser.  I’m not a knight.  Just Warden Alistair.  Spent my youth in a monastery, but didn’t take vows or become a knight.  I’ve only been out in the world for six or so months since I became a warden.”

“Sheltered Circle mage here.  Neither have I.”  Liam chuckled.  “I amused Duncan no end with my naïve enthusiasm for the obvious on our way here.  Rain excites me.  Stars enthrall me.  The boat ride from the Docks, incredible.  Battle – I’ve yet to find out.”

Alistair grinned.  “Well, I did get to go outside, as long as I stayed in the monastery grounds, so weather’s nothing new.  Wait until you experience snow!”

“Can’t wait, but what about, Ser Jory?”

“Ah, he’s a rather pompous tournament knight from Redcliffe via Highever.  Not sure what Duncan sees in him.  In addition, he’s married with a child on the way.  Makes me think Duncan is desperate and that’s scary.”  He stopped talking.  “Maker, you’re too easy to talk too.  I’m babbling more than usual.”

“Desperate, how?”

Alistair hesitated, then shrugged, and continued.  _He’ll know soon enough…or it won’t matter._   “We’re too few.  King Cailan and Duncan sent for help to Orlais, but Teyrn Loghain opposes any Orlesians coming into Ferelden.  He has the passes blocked.  No wardens have come through.  Can’t say I blame him.  At least, if the Wardens come with chevaliers.”

“How many wardens are there?”

Alistair glanced at Liam before he answered.  “Not counting you new recruits, about two score.”

Liam stopped.  “That’s all?”

Alistiar nodded.

The two men walked up a ramp to a terrace.  There they found Ser Jory receiving a blessing from a Chantry priest. 

“A devout knight.  Does he tolerate mages?”  Liam asked.

“He’s condescending to anyone who’s not a knight. He may have picked up some tolerance for mages during his time in Highever. In the end, he has no choice.  You’re his brother.  Duncan will demand he act decently, but he is from Redcliffe.  Not a mage friendly town.”

“No, I noticed that when Duncan and I passed through.  That’s why I asked.  I suspect the Mother at the Castle would have had me in the dungeons were I not with Duncan.”

“You were in Redcliffe?”  Alistair’s almost snapped the words, surprising Liam.

“I was.  As I said, with Duncan on our way here.  We took a boat to speed our trip from the North.  He had meetings with the Arl.  I mostly stayed in the village.”

“Right.  Sorry.  I was born there.  That’s how I know they don’t favor mages.  Don’t have good memories really, but that’s not important.  Let’s get Ser Jory and get back to Duncan.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

When Alistair and the two recruits reached Duncan’s camp, Taina, Rory, and Daveth already stood chatting with Duncan.  Once introductions were complete, Duncan chastised Alistair for riling the mages and sassing Enchanter Marius.  He couldn’t miss Jory’s satisfied sneer or Daveth’s chuckle.  Taina gave him a sympathetic punch, but Liam spoke up in his defense.

 “Telling Marius he would name his child after him might have been excessive, Duncan, but Marius is a pompous ass.  Most of the other mages will think it’s funny.”

“Which ones won’t.”  Taina asked.

Liam grinned.  “Right to the point, eh Taina?  Wynne can get her knickers in a knot about respect for seniority and age.  Everyone else…they’ll just call Marius _Grumpy_ from now on.”

Daveth and Taina started laughing and even Rory cracked a smile.  He didn’t know his new companions very well, but the whole story was funny.  Jory frowned.  If possible, Alistair’s face turned a deeper shade of red.  Duncan just sighed and waited a moment for them to settle.

“Alright, Recruits!”  Duncan said sharply.  “Now that you’re all here, we can begin.  Alistair will lead you into the Korcari Wilds to perform two tasks.  First you will each collect a vial of darkspawn blood.”

“Collect?  Darkspawn blood?  From what?”  Jory asked.

Taina cocked her head, ”Darkspawn blood comes from darkspawn, Ser Knight.”  Behind she could hear Daveth coughing to cover a chuckle.  He had begun calling Jory, Ser Knight, and it had stuck.  “You kill it, it bleeds, and you collect its blood.”  Taina saw Rory cover his mouth to hide a smile.

“Taina,” Duncan said.  “That was not necessary.”

Taina smirked.  “Yes, boss.”

“And I suppose you know all about darkspawn,” Jory scoffed.

Even Duncan looked at Jory in surprise.

Taina pointed to herself, “Dwarf.  From Orzammar.  Traveled the Deep Roads.  So yeah, I do.  Way more than you, cloudhead.”  She turned away arms crossed, scowling.

Duncan closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then began again.  “As I said, you will engage the darkspawn you meet and, once you kill them, you will each gather a vial of blood.  You will need to work together, with Alistair’s guidance, to accomplish this.  The blood is for the initiation ceremony we call the Joining.  I will explain further when you return.”

“What’s the second task?”  Liam asked.

“Retrieving ancient scrolls from a chest left in an abandoned grey warden outpost.  It’s just come to our attention that these scrolls exist.  They may prove valuable in days to come.”

“Right.  A vial of blood each and retrieve the scrolls.”  Alistair ran his hand through his hair.

“What is in these scrolls, Duncan, if I may enquire?”  Liam said.

“Treaties.  Treaties promising support during a Blight.”

“Why leave them there Duncan?”  Alistair spoke up.

“We thought we would return.  We assumed many things that did not come to pass.  Magic seals protect the scrolls.  Retrieve them if you can, Alistair.”  Duncan looked at each of the recruits before turning back to Alistair.  “Watch over your charges.  Bring them back safely.”

“I will, Duncan.”  Alistair said.  He looked at the recruits.  “Alright, you heard Duncan.  Gather your weapons and packs and meet me here before the bell rings for Nones.  Plan on spending the night in the Wilds.  Bring what potions and poultices you have.  Liam do you have lyrium?”

Liam nodded.  “A few vials, but that should be enough.”

“Good.  Now go.  We have our orders.  Liam, stay with me a moment.”  After the others had gone, Alistair spoke again.  “Liam, do you have a pack and equipment?  If not, let’s go to the quartermaster and get you outfitted before we leave.”

“Duncan saw to my needs in Redcliffe.  The Arms Master at the Castle provided me with a pack, a shelter, a bedroll, a dagger and other supplies.”

“Ummm…good.  I wanted to make sure, since you just arrived.  I guess you camped on your way from Redcliffe though.”  His voice became quieter and then trailed off as he spoke.

“Alistair, I appreciate the thought.  You’re doing what you’re supposed to do.  Taking care of your charges.”

“Is my inexperience that obvious?”

“No.  I’m a teacher, Alistair, and a few years older than you.  I took care of my pupils....”  he stared at the ground.  “Or tried too.  That’s what you’re doing.  Again, I appreciate the thought.  I’ll just wait here.  My gear is all in my pack right there.”

“Good.  I’ll just go now and follow my own orders.  Be back shortly.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“Wolves.  I don’t suppose they will be the most difficult foe we face.”  Ser Jory wiped his great sword on the grass to clean it.

“Not if we’re to collect darkspawn blood, Ser Knight,” Daveth and Jory both looked up at a moan from farther along the trail.

“Fellows,” Taina yelled.  “We got wounded here.”  She knelt by the soldier.

The group gathered around a trooper in Highever armor.  “We’re trying to get back to report,” the soldier groaned.  His comrades, lying nearby, were dead.

Liam watched Alistair take in the crest and wince, but then he quipped, “Well, not as dead as he looks.”

Taina head whipped up.  “Not dead at all, Alistair,” she snapped.

Alistair pursed his lips.  “I have bandages, but…Liam?”

Liam nodded.  “You still may have to bandage him, but I can do much of the healing.”

Daveth wandered away from the group while Alistair bandaged the scout.  Liam had healed him much to Daveth’s amazement.  He had never seen a mage heal before.  Well truth be told he had never seen a mage do anything before.  Freezing those two wolves had been helpful too.  He gaze settled on a white flower.  _That’s the flower the kennel master wants._   He quickly picked it and decided to gather any more he found.

“Find a girl to give that to, Daveth?”  Taina grinned.

“No.  It’s for the kennel master.  He says it might heal the mabari.”

“Seriously?”

“S’what he said.  Can’t hurt to get it for him.”

“The flower cures Blight sickness?”  Liam joined him staring at the unfamiliar flower.

“I don’t know about that Ser Mage.”

Liam raised his eyebrows.  “Ser Mage?”

“Well, I don’t know what to call ya.”

“How about Liam.”

“Oh, don’t mages have titles.”

In my case, Enchanter, but that will change to Warden soon.”

“Ah, right.  Well, the kennel master said  the flower helps cure sick mabari.  I was going to collect any others I saw.”

“Good.  Keep some for us to try as well.  I’ll speak to the kennel master.  I’ve never seen that flower before.  Perhaps it only grows here in the Wilds.”

“You know plants?”

“Some.  I can make potions.” 

Taina shouted.  “We could use help here.”

The two men ran over to engage the hurlocks attacking the other recruits and Alistair.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

After wandering the Wilds and encountering numerous darkspawn and more dead soldiers, the five recruits finally acquired their vials of darkspawn blood.  Daveth had a pouch full of Wilds flowers.  Ser Jory had been horrified when Taina and Daveth looted the bodies, but was more than ready to ask for a share in the Chasind cache Daveth found. 

“Your dust sense is outstanding, Daveth.  I don’t think I could do better in Orzammar.”

“Dust sense?”  Rory asked.

“It’s her funny way of saying tracking ability and sense of direction, Ser Rory.  She says they call it Stone Sense in Orzammar.  Up here she decided to call it Dust Sense,” Daveth said.  “Me I call it my inborn tracking sense.  Grew up tracking game with my Da.”

Rory grinned and nodded.  “Makes sense to me.”

Taina laughed.  “You’re not bad, Highever.  For a cloudhead.”

Alistair gathered his charges after a sharp encounter with an emissary and his band.   

“Is everyone in one piece.  No injuries left to treat?”

A chorus of no’s convinced him all were well.  “I think we should make camp down in that hollow where Daveth found the cache.  It’s clean, bounded by water, and has no darkspawn debris now that we’ve built the pyres.  We’ll get an early start in the morning.  It’ll be rations for dinner.  I don’t want to hunt and risk more darkspawn encounters.”

Sitting around the small fire, Liam asked Alistair what to expect once the battle commenced. 

“Do you mean will you fight?”

“I suppose.  King Cailan seemed to think it would go well.  Duncan wouldn’t discuss it on the way here.”

“You spoke with the king?”

“He met us as we arrived.  He seemed…eager for battle.”

Alistair chuckled.  “He has to appear enthusiastic in order to lead, I suppose.  Perhaps he overdoes it?  I do trust in Teyrn Loghain’s strategies.  He’ll be the one developing the battle plan.  As long as we all adhere to it, we should prevail.  He’ll keep the lid on the pot.”

“Without reinforcements from Redcliffe and more wardens?”

Alistair stared at the ground.  “I don’t think the Teyrn would take us into a battle he thought we would lose.  He sent out a large force to reconnoiter a few days ago.  That Highever knight we met was from Lord Fergus’ force.  He’ll let the Teyrn know how many darkspawn they found.”

**9:30 Dragon  28 Drakonis  ===   Korcari Wilds**

“Couldn’t just let us find the damned treaties and leave without running into more of these monsters,” Daveth grumbled as his arrow found another hurlock.  “He nocked another arrow and aimed, but Alistair ran the last hurlock through before he could loose.”

“Is that all of them,” Rory asked.

“Seems clear,” Alistair assured them. 

The Warden had kept his word and warned them each time darkspawn approached so they could prepare themselves.  Rory, used to the discipline of the Highever guard, had been satisfied with Alistair’s explanation of the tactics used to fight the monsters.  By this final engagement they were working well as a team.  Daveth and Liam stayed back shooting and casting.  Daveth quickly proved his worth as an archer and Liam alternately cast healing spells on the other four as they engaged directly or used his Cold and Entropic spells against the darkspawn.  Paralysis worked particularly well with the strongest hurlocks and emissaries.  Alistair and Rory attacked furiously with sword and shield while Taina backstabbed and used her stealth and grenades to maim and weaken.  Jory had hesitated during the first few battles, but even he fought more aggressively now with his great sword. 

 _He might make a warden yet._   Rory had seen him in tourneys in Highever.  He fought Tourney melee well, but this was the real thing.  It had taken him a few engagements to adjust.

The group moved on to the ruined building where they believed the warden archive lay.  Upon entering they saw the chest, but it lay twisted and open to the weather.  Alistair and Liam approached it.

“Nothing.”  Liam said as he reached in.

“Well, well…what have we here?”

Both men whirled around to find an unusually clad woman watching from the upper level of the ruin.  

“Are you a vulture, I wonder.  A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned.  Or merely an intruder come into these darkspawn filled wilds of mine in search of easy prey?  What say you, hmmm?  Scavenger?  Or intruder?”

“I am neither,” Liam replied.  “The Grey Wardens once owned this tower.”

“ ‘Tis a tower no longer.  The wilds have long since claimed this desiccated corpse.”  The dark haired woman walked down the ramp and into their midst.  “I have watched your progress for some time.  Where do they go I wonder.  Why are they here?  And now you disturb ashes none have touched for so long.  Why is that?”  She crossed the stone floor and stood at the edge of the ruin with her back to the forest beyond.

“Don’t answer her, Liam.  She looks Chasind,” Alistair murmured.  “And that means others may be nearby.”

“You fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?” the strange woman asked.

“Yeess, swooping is bad.”

Liam side-eyed Alistair with a raised eyebrow and was about to comment when Daveth broke in.

“She’s a witch of the wilds she is, she’ll turn us into toads.”

Liam choked back a laugh.  _I’ll need to stop these two.  I don’t want to offend her if she has information._

“Witch of the Wilds.  Such idle fancies those legends.  Have you no minds of your own?  You there, handsome man, tell me your name and I shall tell you mine.”

Liam chuckled.  “Liam, my name is Liam.”  He bowed.  “Please excuse my rather rude companions.  Perhaps, if they don’t prove more courteous, _I’ll_ turn them into toads.”  He glared at both Daveth and Alistair after greeting the woman.

“Now that is a proper, civil greeting, even here in the wilds.  You may call me Morrigan, if you wish.  Shall I guess your purpose.  You sought something in that chest, something that is here no longer.

Ignoring Liam’s warning, Alistair spoke.  “Here no longer?”

“You stole them didn’t you.  You’re some kind of…sneaky…witch-thief,” Daveth added. 

“Enough!”  Liam objected.

“How very eloquent.  How does one steal from dead men?”

Alistair glanced at Liam and moderated his tone if not his words.  “Quite easily it seems.  Those documents were Grey Warden property, so I suggest you return them.”

“I will not.  For it was not I who removed them.  Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer if you wish.  I am not threatened.”

Would you tell us who did take them?”  Liam asked, before Alistair could continue.  He glanced at Alistair again.  The younger man looked confused.  _Let’s see if I can save this before she stalks off._

“Twas my mother, in fact.”

Is that a joke?”  Daveth asked.

Liam gave Daveth a look that had quieted the most disruptive student. 

Daveth went silent. 

“Could you take us to her?”  Liam asked.

“There is a sensible request.  I like you.  ‘Tis not far from here.  You may ask mother for you papers if you like.”

“We should get those treaties, but I dislike this Morrigan’s sudden appearance.”  Alistair said loud enough for Morrigan to hear.

“You dislike it, Warden Alistair, or does the templar speak?”  Liam snapped.  “She’s an apostate, yes, but that does not make her dangerous.  She approached us openly and offered help.  All you and Daveth offer are insults.  I’m beginning to think you’re only useful in a fight.  Let’s get the treaties.  You keep quiet.  You too, Daveth.  I’ll do the talking.”

“She’ll put us in a pot she will.”  Daveth ignored Liam’s order.

“If it’s warmer than, this forest it’s be a nice change.”  Jory snapped.

“Enough,” Liam growled through clenched teeth.

Taina raised her eyebrows, but nodded her assent to Liam.  Ser Gilmore remained quiet.

“I do not meet many people here.  Are you all so mistrustful?”

“It seems so,” Liam said.  “Thank you for helping us.” 

Morrigan nodded and turned into the woods behind her.  “Follow me then, if it pleases you.”

Alistair frowned and exchanged a look with Daveth.  Then he followed Liam and Taina.  Jory and Ser Gilmore fell in line behind them.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“Greetings Mother, I bring before you … grey wardens….”

“Mmmm.  Much as I expected.”

“You were expecting us?”  Alistair said. “I find that hard to believe.”

Morrigan’s mother replied before Liam could intervene.

“You are required to do nothing, least of all believe.  Shut one’s eyes tight or open one’s arms wide either way ones a fool.”

“She’s got that right.  I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” Taina whispered to Ser Rory.

“She’s a witch I tell you.  We shouldn’t be talking to her.”  Daveth warned.

Taina rolled her eyes.  “Or into him.”

“And I’m a mage, Daveth, you want to stop talking to me too?  You do realize _I_ could turn you into a toad or worse.”  Liam hissed.

Jory spoke at the same time, more loudly.  “Quiet Daveth, if she’s really a witch do you want to make her mad?

“There is a smart lad.  Sadly irrelevant to the larger scheme of things, but it is not I who decides, believe what you will.”  The elderly woman cackled and turned to Liam.  “And what of you?  Does your mages mind give you a different viewpoint?  Or do you believe as these others do?

“I’m not sure what to believe….”

“A statement that possess more wisdom than it implies.  Be always aware…or is it oblivious.  I can never remember.  So much about you is uncertain and yet I believe.”  The woman stared at Liam, brow furrowed.  “Do I?  Why it seems I do.” 

Liam tried to make sense of the woman’s statements.  _Is she mocking me…us?  Or does she have some insight.  This was the Wilds.  Perhaps she’s a seer?_

 _“_ She’s a Witch of the Wilds, I tell you.”

Liam sighed.  “Daveth.”

“Witch of the Wilds.  Morrigan must have told you that.  She fancies such tales, although she would never admit.  Oh how she dances-“

“-They did not come to listen to your wild tales, Mother.”

“True, they came for their treaties and before you begin barking, your precious seal wore off long ago.  I have protected these.

“You…oh, you protected them.”  Alistair looked confused.

“And why not?  Take them to your grey wardens and tell them this blight’s threat is greater than they realize.”

“Thank you,” Liam said, then turned to glare at Alistair and Daveth behind him.  He let out the breath he’d been holding when no one else spoke. 

“Oh do not mind me,” the older woman said, “you have what you came for.”

“Time for you to go then,” Morrigan said.

“Do not be ridiculous girl, these are your guests.”

“Oh, very well I will show you out of the woods.  Follow me,” she added.

**9:30 Dragon  28 Drakonis  ===   Ostagar**

Alistair and his charges reported back to Duncan on their return.  Duncan told Alistair to keep the treaties with him.  Then he told Alistair to bring them to the old temple at sunset for the Joining ceremony.  He collected the vials of darkspawn blood and walked towards the mages compound.  Once Duncan was out of sight, Liam pulled Alistair aside.

“What was that about?  You acted like…,” he sighed.  “You acted like a templar, and not the better kind.”

“Liam, she spooked me.  Showing up like that, dressed as she was.  If I was really a templar I would have smited her.  I didn’t.”

“You can smite?”

“Of course I can smite.  Why would you think…oh, no I don’t take lyrium.  Doesn’t matter.  I can still smite.  Lyrium, they say, makes your templar talents stronger.  I don’t know.  I was never on the dose.  Maybe all it does is make you addicted and unable to leave.”

“I see.  Well, even so your behavior was terrible.  You were supposed to retrieve the treaties, not antagonize the one person who could take you to them.  You negotiate in that kind of situation.  No wonder Duncan was upset about you riling the mages.  You have no tact.  You acted like a bad tempered twelve year old.”  Liam frowned.  “You did the same with that wounded scout.  Something about him upset you and you started making stupid…no cruel jokes.  Why?”

“He is right, Ali.”

They both turned. 

Taina held up her hands.  “Came back for my pack.  Sorry.  Didn’t mean to barge in.  Liam’s right, you messed up.  My mouth used to get me in trouble a lot.  I had to learn to think before I spoke.”

“It…the scout wore Highever armor.  He was a messenger from Lord Fergus Cousland’s force.  It disturbed me.”

“It probably disturbed Ser Rory too, but he didn’t make jokes,” Taina said.  She looked at Liam.  “Alistair did make sure you healed the man and he bandaged him up.”

Alistair rubbed both hands through his hair.  “You’re right.  I know what to do in battle.  The soldier and the apostate surprised me.  I make jokes when I don’t know what else to do.  At least when I can’t walk away or keep quiet.  I guess part of my reaction to the witc…apostate was a templar reaction.”

Alistair looked from Liam to Taina.  “Right, so I should just fight and keep quiet.”

“That’s not what Liam said, Ali.  You led us well through the wilds when it was all fighting, but maybe you should let Liam talk when it’s time to negotiate.”

“No,” Liam said, “there’s no reason you shouldn’t be a good diplomat too.  You’re intelligent, educated, you can learn how to speak thoughtfully too.”

“Unless he’s distracted by partially dressed mages,” Taina teased. 

Alistair reddened.

“Was that it?  It wasn’t ‘cause she was a mage, it was her clothes!  It’s not the templar training, it’s the Chantry thing.  You get flustered around pretty girls.  Well, almost naked ones who haven’t beaten you in a sparring match anyway.”

Alistair blush deepened.  “It was not-“

Taina started laughing, “-It was.  It was her clothes.”

Liam smirked.  “At least we meet women in the Tower.”  His smirk changed to a smile.  “The robe was provocative.”

“Maker,” Alistair groaned.  “Her dress...or it’s lack did distract me, but it was also her sudden appearance…and the fact she was an apostate.  All of it together.  And how did she track us?  She said she’d been following our progress, but Daveth would have seen her. I didn’t know what she might do.   There were too many unanswered questions.”

“So, insulting her will provide answers?”

“No.  It was stupid.  I didn’t think, I just babbled.”

“Daveth saw a wolf following us,” Taina said.  “When it left us alone he ignored it.  We had darkspawn to worry about.”

Liam frowned.  He had noticed a crow watching the recruits while they ate dinner.   He thought it wanted scraps, but perhaps….  “A shape changer?”

“A what!  Do they even exist?”  Alistair asked.

“It’s old magic.  I’ve never heard of any, but in the Wilds?  Perhaps.  She and her mother were…unusual.  Definitely mages and probably powerful ones.  I don’t like to think legends come to life but-”

“-I’ll just forget you said that,” Alistair grumbled.

Liam laughed.  “Templar again?”

“No,” Taina said.  “As Alistair would say it’s creepy to anyone.”  She shivered.  “Changing my shape.”

Liam chuckled.  “I find it intriguing.”

Alistair shook his head.  “Still forgetting what you said.”  He stared at the ground.  “Thank you, Liam.  Because of you, we got the treaties.  My concerns were groundless and I could have spoken…negotiated better.  Point taken.”  He gave a partial, lopsided grin.  “I’ll work on the civility thing.  And the think before you speak thing.  Maybe you can help?”

Liam smiled.  “Be happy to Alistair.”

Alistair’s grin widened.  “Fortunately we won’t ever see Morrigan or her mother again, right?  I can start fresh.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Alistair ushered the five Warden Recruits to the old temple.  The last time he was here, it was his own Joining and Crispin had died.  Now Eryhn and Pery were off in the Wilds with Fergus Cousland and his horse troop.  He looked at the five candidates.  _Cormac read the oath last time.  Now I will do it._   _I hope the odds favor us this time._   Voices drew him out of his thoughts.

“Why all these damned tests.  Have I not earned my place?”

_Maker does he ever stop complaining._

“Maybe it’s tradition.  Maybe they’re just trying to annoy you.”  Daveth replied.

“All any of us have earned is the chance to try, Ser Knight,” Taina added.  “Just calm down.”

 If they had warned me of the danger-“

“-Would you have come if they warned you?  Maybe that’s why they don’t,” Daveth snapped.  “The wardens do what they must, right?”

“Including sacrificing us?”

“I’d sacrifice a lot more if I knew it would end the Blight.  You saw the darkspawn, Ser Knight.  Wouldn’t you die to protect your pretty wife from them?”

“I-“

“-Maybe you’ll die.  Maybe we’ll all die.  If nobody stops the darkspawn, you’ll die for sure.” 

“Daveth speaks well, Ser Jory,” Rory Gilmore said.  “Not every foe can be vanquished with a blade.”

“Or a spell,” added Liam.  “I agree.  Daveth speaks for me.”

“And me,” said Taina.  “If we can end the Blight here as wardens, nothing else matters.”

Alistair let the other recruits answer Jory during the debate.  Ser Jory fell silent, but looked unconvinced.  There was nothing he could add to Daveth’s words.  He just wished Duncan would arrive and the Joining begin.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“Ser Gilmore.”  Duncan handed the Highever knight the cup. 

The recruits looked on in horror as Gilmore grabbed his throat, choking, and collapsed.

“I am sorry, Ser Rory,” Duncan said.

“No,” whispered Taina, looking at the fallen knight.

“Taina.”

She looked up at Duncan.  Duncan stared back, his expression stern and hard.  _This is the face the darkspawn see._   “Ready, boss,” she murmured and took the chalice.  She took a swallow feeling the greasy, bitter mixture fill her mouth and burn as it went down. 

Again the recruits watched.  Taina grabbed her temples, her eyes rolled up beneath her eyelids and then she fell.  Duncan checked her and looked at Alistair.  “She lives.”  He saw Alistair close his eyes briefly and then regain his serious composure.  

Daveth went next.  “He lives,” Duncan said.

“Ser Jory.”

“No, no there is no glory in this.  I have a wife.  I will not.”

“There is no turning back,” Duncan warned. 

“No, you ask too much.”

While Alistair and Liam watched in horror, Jory drew his blade.  Duncan responded and the two fought.  It ended quickly with Ser Jory’s death. 

“I am sorry,” was all Duncan said before he picked up the chalice again and turned to Liam.

Liam took the chalice and drank.  When he dropped to the ground near Alistair, the younger warden leaned down to feel for a pulse.  “He lives, Duncan.”

“Good.  We are finished then.  We have three new wardens.”

Alistair stared at the body of the quiet, young Highever knight he had come to like and respect. 

“Alistair stay with them until they come around.  When they do, return with them to our camp and see they get a good night’s sleep.  The battle draws nigh.  They will need this night’s rest.”

“Duncan, what about-“

As he spoke Wardens Cormac, Malachi, Olivier, and Anton entered the temple and carried Ser Gilmore and Ser Jory from the chamber. 

“-they’ll be honored with a pyre Alistair.  You need not worry about that.  You take care of your charges.”

“Yes, Duncan.”  Alistair sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor of the temple and waited for the three new wardens to awaken.

**9:30 Dragon  29 Drakonis  ===   Ostagar**

Early the next morning, Alistair took his charges to the mess tent.  The night before they had only wanted sleep, but now they were hungry and very quiet.  They avoided discussing the Joining.  The incident with Jory had changed affected their opinion of Duncan, but none were willing to discuss their leader’s actions.  Jory had drawn first and shown what each considered cowardice, but Duncan’s actions had given meaning to his statement declaring that wardens do whatever they must to stop the Blight.  Ser Gilmore death they regretted deeply.  They had all come to like the pleasant young Highever knight.  

Daveth was the first to speak.  “I took a few flowers to the kennel master, Ser Mage.”

Liam shook his head and laughed.  “Did they help?”

“They seemed to.  Kennel master said return after the battle.”  Daveth handed over a pouch.  “Here’s the rest of ‘em.  Maybe you can make a potion or something.” 

“I’m beginning to understand why you eat so much,” Taina grumbled, as she returned from the serving line with another full bowl of porridge, some honey cakes and two apples.

“Take more the first time and you won’t have to keep going back.  Your appetite will demand it,” Alistair chided.

“We all need to do that,” Liam said rising for his third trip to the servers.

Daveth chuckled.  “I would think you’d already know that, Taina.  Eat when you can.”

“I’d forgotten it once I reached the surface.  I’ve never had so much to eat.”  She smirked at Daveth.  “After all I have a girlish figure to maintain.”

“It’s a nice figure, but I don’t think you have to worry about spoiling it now.”

Taina’s spoon stopped halfway to her mouth and she gave Daveth a sidelong look.  The thief did not seem to be teasing.  “I’ll make sure I get lots of exercise anyway.”

Daveth smiled.  “I can help with that.”

Taina smacked him.

“I mean sparring, Taina.  Unless-“

“-don’t even try your lines on me Daveth.”

He laughed, holding up his hands in defeat.  “Never.”

Liam, sitting across from Daveth looked up then started to rise.

“No, Liam, no need to stand for me,” Duncan said.  “I do need you to accompany me.  The King requests your presence at the War Council.  Can you join me now?”

“Of course.  Why me?”

“He did not say, Liam.  He just asked for you by name.”

Liam got up and followed Duncan out of the tent.

Taina and Daveth looked at Alistair, who shrugged.  “He’s a mage.  Must need him for some magey things.”  Alistair wiggled his fingers at Daveth.

“Magey things?  Is that a technical term?”  Daveth asked

“Absolutely.  Templars say it all the time.”

Taina giggled and Daveth shook his head.  “Maker, Alistair, some days you act like you’re ten.”

Alistair’s lips quirked up as he stared at his stared off into the distance.  “Some days I wish I was ten.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Later, Liam would run through the discussions at the War Council many times trying to make sense of the undertones he had barely noticed at the time.  Even then, knowing much more than he had that afternoon, much of the meeting made little sense.  When he arrived, King Cailan had congratulated him, which had annoyed Teyrn Loghain.  Most of what King Cailan said or did that day annoyed the Teyrn, but his support of the Grey Wardens seemed to bother Loghain the most. 

When Loghain began to discuss battle plans, the King seemed annoyed.  _It’s a war council.  Aren’t we here to discuss plans?_   he recalled wondering.  When the King insisted on fighting with the wardens in the front lines, Liam expected Duncan to agree with Teyrn Loghain and firmly suggest that the King stay with the Teyrn’s troops or at a command post on one of the battlements overlooking the valley.  From there the king could see the battlefield, send, and receive messages, and retreat to fight another day if things went poorly.  To Liam’s surprise, Duncan did not speak up in support of Teyrn Loghain. 

Liam had recalled Alistair mentioning at breakfast that they would start to sense the darkspawn and the darkspawn, in turn, would sense them.  _Won’t the king be putting himself in the one place sure to attract the bulk of the horde,_ he had wondered.  Then the king had talked about glory in battle.  Teyrn Loghain had made a sarcastic remark clearly meant to let the king know he did not find it glorious at all. 

What surprised Liam most was his assignment.  Well, his and Alistair’s.  Lighting the beacon in the Tower of Ishal seemed a menial task for two grey wardens.  Again, Duncan had acquiesced without word.  Had he and the king planned this beforehand?  If so, why?  Liam had sighed and promised to do his best. 

Alistair had not taken the assignment well.  When Liam and Duncan returned to Duncan’s fire, Taina and Daveth had been told they would go with Duncan to the warden lines in the valley below.  Alistair, Duncan said, would accompany Liam to the Tower of Ishal to light the beacon.  The king had ordered it, Duncan had stated in response to Alistair’s objections.  King Cailan named Alistair and Liam specifically.  Alistair had argued to no avail.  Duncan had emphasized the critical nature of the signal.  Loghain needed to know when to close the trap.

Alistair’s smart remarks had annoyed Duncan, but Taina and Daveth had found the dancing joke funny.  Truth be told he had too.  Oddly, the mages learned to dance.  He supposed the templars and senior enchanters thought it worked off youthful _exuberance_.  So he could picture Alistair doing the Remigold in a dress.  For once, Alistair’s humor proved appropriate and lightened the mood for their farewells.

As he watched Duncan, Taina and Daveth left for the valley, Liam put a hand on Alistair’s shoulder.

“We can only hope for the best.”

“I should be with them.”

“King Cailan specifically said you and I should light the beacon.”

“Of course he did.”  Alistair sighed. 

“He’s going to fight with the wardens.  The Teyrn objected.  I thought Duncan would too, but he didn’t.”

Liam felt Alistair stiffen.  The younger man turned.  “The king went to fight in the valley?   Or will he just give a speech and leave?”

“No, he planned to stay and fight with the wardens.”

Liam watched Alistair shoulders slump.  His head dropped.  He shook it slightly.  It was hard to tell in the flickering light of the great fire, but he thought he saw moisture on his cheeks.  _Why would the king’s actions, however foolish, affect him so much?_

“Of course he will.”

“Alistair, why is that so terrible?”

Alistair’s response confirmed what Liam had suspected.  “They sense us.  In battle, they’ll send their strongest forces against the wardens.  King Cailan’s put himself in the center of the battle.”  Alistair swiped his cheeks with the back of one hand.  “Let’s go.  We have our orders.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Liam and Alistair stopped at the entrance to the bridge.  Their destination, the Tower of Ishal rose above the ruins across the ravine, its windows alight.  Over the parapet of the bridge they could see the mass of soldiers and darkspawn fighting below.  His fellow wardens, Taina, Daveth and Duncan, and his brother, King Cailan…all of them fought in the battle below.  Darkspawn continued to pour in from the Wilds. 

Alistair looked at the upper battlements overlooking the valley where he knew there were catapults.  _Why aren’t the catapults on the forward ramparts firing into that mass of darkspawn?_   The catapults on the bridge still fired over their own soldiers below, as did the archers, but ineffectually at this distance.  The platforms and ramparts above the valley also provided ample space for archers, but none stood and shot into the horde below.  _It makes no sense._

“Let’s go,” Alistair said to Liam.  “We need to get to the Tower of Ishal.  Loghain waits for our signal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I do not usually include whole scenes of dialogue in my story, but Morrigan’s introduction and the meeting with Flemeth are so classic, pivotal and well written that I make an exception. I suspect all of your hear Claudia Black in your head as you read.
> 
> Thank you for reading. I hope you continue to enjoy. If you have time, reviews, short or long, are always welcome!
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eyes. Her astute comments improve every post. Any errors are all mine. 
> 
> Thanks to those who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. Special thanks to those who reviewed or commented: Arsinoe de Blassenville, Mike3207, ElyssaCousland, ChaoticHarmony1991, dustywalker, caraine and SnowHelm. You inspire me and make me think. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback.


	69. Her Heart Was Strong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is posting early: the final chapter of book 1. Hope you enjoy. It's 9:30 Dragon. Ostagar took place over the night of 30 Drakonis and 1 Cloudreach. Unknown to any of the participants other events had occurred earlier in Drakonis at Highever on the night of 9-10 Drakonis.
> 
> Both events, Highever and Ostagar, would change the course of Fereldan history as the survivors fight the Blight and each other during the next year. Lys's story will continue in Book 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world. Stories sometimes incorporate game dialogue, although not always in its original context. Either way, that dialogue belongs to Bioware. 
> 
> SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.

“Don't let it be forgot  
That once there was a spot  
For one brief shining moment…”  
That was Ferelden  
Ruled by King Maric the Savior  
Camelot – Lerner and Lowe

 **Chapter 69** **– HER HEART WAS STRONG**

* * *

 

**9:30 Dragon  1 Cloudreach   ===   North of Ostagar**

Taina and Daveth sat silently under an overhang on a rocky ledge.  They looked back through the rain at the silhouette of the ruins to the south.  The towers and arches flickered in and out of view as fires marched through the ample fuel on the ground.  The wind-driven horizontal rain of the night before had diminished.  In the early morning hours only occasional gusts disturbed the steady downpour to send drops sideways into their faces.  A brighter grey rimmed the peaks of the mountains to east.   Below them on the main road north, an army marched away from the field of battle.  Wyverns of Gwaren, and mabari rampant of Maric’s Shield showed on pauldrons and shields.  There were no Amaranthine Bears or Redcliffe Motte and Castles.  Neither Arl had arrived.  Nor had Teyrn Cousland.  Every other noble had fought in the valley with King Cailan and the Grey Wardens.

“I’m telling you Daveth, I saw a dragon.  It flew over the Tower of Ishal and landed there below the beacon.  Then it flew off again with something in its talons.”

“Maybe it was a large bird.”

Taina stared at him, eyes narrowed.

“A really large bird?”

“No, it was not a large bird.  It wasn’t the dragon I see in my dreams, the Archdemon, but it was a dragon.”

Daveth sighed.  “Fine, you saw a dragon.  Why not, after everything else we saw last night.”

Taina decided to ignore his sarcasm.  “Should we go down and join the retreating troops?”

“I don’t think so.  Not sure why, but I think we should head north on our own.  I don’t see any wardens with those troops.  All the wardens were in the valley with us.  They might not take kindly to us retreating when the rest died.”

Taina features scrunched into something more than a frown.  “Yeah, you have a point there.  Probably name us deserters for not dying.”  She looked toward the Tower where the beacon had flamed for an hour or more as they retreated from the rout in the valley.  “I wonder if Alistair and Liam got out?”

“Maybe the dragon saved them.  Maybe they were in the dragon’s talons.”

Taina punched Daveth on his arm, hard.

“Ow!  Maker, Taina.  They were in the Tower with the Teyrn’s troops, not in the valley.  They probably left when the Teyrn did.”

“Yeah, probably.  Maybe we’ll see them as we go north.  They certainly won’t be looking for us.”

They went silent again, each recalling the horrors they had witnessed from their little corner of the battlefield.  King Cailan's short speech and then his orders to attack. 

Taina had no experience in battle, but she had been part of ambushes. _You always waited until the enemy was close and then attacked with all you had._

_That did not happen.  The archers had loosed only one volley and from too far away to do much damage.  Then the hounds had also attacked early?  Those attacks ended before the darkspawn reached the ramparts marking the bottleneck they were to defend.  Instead of staying behind the wooden rampart, King Cailan ordered the army to pour out of the valley and into the open where the Horde surrounded it?_

_Then the beacon had not flared.  Alistair and Liam had been late.  Why was that?  When the beacon finally burst from the Tower, the flanking army, led by Teyrn Loghain, had fled rather than attack the overwhelming Horde of monsters._ She hadn’t said any of this to Daveth, but she suspected he had similar doubts about the conduct of the battle.

“It was lost Taina.  I wouldn’t have left if it wasn’t.”

“I know.  They’re all gone.  The king, Duncan, the other wardens….maybe–"

“Don’t think like that.  Alistair and Liam are fine!”

“I wish we could have gone that way and checked.”

“The trail I found up the back of the ravine only went north west, Taina.”

Daveth had grabbed her arm after they watched Duncan slay the ogre.  He had told her earlier of a narrow path up the steep rise at the end of the valley.  _We can get out that way if it goes bad,_ he had told her.  _No sense dying here, if we can live to fight another day, right?_   She and Daveth thought alike.  They fled.

**9:30 Dragon   9 Drakonis  ===  Castle Cousland, Highever**

Teyrn Bryce and Arl Howe went to Bryce’s study after dinner rather than joining Lys, Denis, Oriana and the Teyrna in her solar.  As the evening grew late, Bryce sent word saying not to wait up for him or the Arl.  He would come to bed later.  Lys and Denis excused themselves and bade Teyrn Eleanor and Oriana goodnight.  On the way to Lys’ apartment, they met Nyla going to her rooms.

“Good night, Nyla.”

The mage smiled at Lys.  “I hope it will be.  I’m collecting my satchel.  I’ll be off later to help Goodwife Tranter in the city.  It’s her time.”

“Oh.  I do hope it goes well.  Give her my best, Nyla.  Tell her we’ll come see her once the babe is born.”  The Goodwife, a master weaver, often worked with Lys on new fabric designs.

“I will Lys.  It’s her third and seems uncomplicated, but one never knows.”

Once Denis and Lys reached her apartment, Sherpa, who had followed, lay down by the hearth in the sitting room.  Lys began pacing in front of the fire.

“Lys, why so restless?”  Denis asked.  “You haven’t sat still all evening.”

“I don’t know.  I’m anxious for Papa I suppose.  And for Fergus and our troops.  And I always feel uncomfortable around Arl Howe.  His troops should be here by now.  It’s unsettling.”

Denis stepped behind her as she passed.  He put his arms around her shoulders and pulled her to him.  “Lys.”  He kissed her neck.  “Sit with me.  Have a glass of wine.  I’d suggest we go spar, but you’re exhausted.  You hardly slept last night.”

She leaned back against him.  “I know.  I am tired, I just can’t relax.”

“Come, sit on the window seat.  I’ll bring you wine.  Looking out over the sea always makes you feel better.”  He walked to the window in the bedroom and opened the casement to let in the salty breeze.  Lys sat on the stone seat, one leg curled under her, the other’s toes resting on the floor.  She leaned forward onto the sill and watched the sun sinking below the horizon.

“You’re not relaxing.”  Denis set a cup of wine on the sill next to her.  He sat beside her, running his hand along her back.  She arched slightly into his hand

“I am,” Lys said, “a little.  I hate staying here.”

“So do I, but it does make sense.”  He pulled her braid to one side and kissed her neck.  As his lips moved forward towards her ear he pulled the tie on her gown’s laces, loosening it.

“Yes, wouldn’t want to delay the nuptials would we.”  Lys’ breath hitched as she finished the sentence.

Denis flinched at her tone.

“I’m sorry, Denis, I don’t mean that-“

“-personally?”

“Yes.”

Denis closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against her hair.  There was no good response to what had become an old discussion.

Lys turned her head and found his lips.  The kiss, tentative at first, deepened as their tongues found each other.  He felt her smile and pulled away, puzzled.

“At least we know making up after our inevitable arguments will be fun.”

He snorted.  “Please tell me you won’t argue just to make up.”

“No, of course not.  I suspect we’ll find enough to disagree about, without manufacturing topics.”

He almost said, not all Orlesians are terrible, but thought better of it.  He had decided she would have to learn that for herself.  Instead he slid his hand around her waist inside her gown.  She felt every small movement as he massaged her torso always moving downward.  His other hand loosened her gown further allowing him to reach in and massage a breast as he kissed her in a spot just below her ear.  She moaned and put her head back on his shoulder baring more of her neck to him. 

Denis trailed kisses down her neck while continuing to caress her.  He ignored the simple chain with its locket, ring and pendant.  She wore his ring on her finger.  She would be his wife.  He had been her first.  _And we_ _’ll be each other’_ _s last, I hope._  

Lately Lys had preferred lovemaking to talk.  He was not sure if that was a good or bad sign, but he had gone along.  They had made love after sparring that afternoon.  He had learned to bring his clothing to her room so they would get to dinner on time.  He suspected Lys thought, as he did, that things would sort themselves out once they arrived in Orlais.  They would have plenty of time to talk there, as she experienced the reality of his home.

The fingers of one hand continued massaging her breast.  The other moved slowly towards the space between her legs.  She made quiet mewling noises in her throat as he kissed and stroked.

Denis stopped and stood, holding out a hand.  “Come to bed.”

Lys got up and followed, stopping to watch him remove his gown and pull the tunic over his head.  He had a few scars on his torso.  From patrolling with his father’s guard, he had told her.  His troop had often run into bandits.  He was not just a tourney knight.

Denis cocked his head.  “Enjoying the view?”

“It could be better,” she replied, smirking and reaching out for the laces securing his breeches.  She undid the tie and then let her hand slip onto the fabric stretched tautly over the bulge beneath. 

Denis sharp intake of breath rewarded her effort.

“Could it?”  As his breeches slipped to his ankles, he stepped out of them.  He pushed Lys’ gown off her shoulders and it fell to her feet.  He pulled her tunic over her head.  Her clothes joined his breeches on the floor as he undid her breast band.

Denis, breathing more heavily now, traced the narrow scar on her shoulder, the relic of a sharp edged shield bashing her.  He began kissing her there and continued to her breast.  One hand on the small of her back pulled her closer and the other slipped between her legs to gently massage among its damp curls.  Lys felt Denis’ own firm excitement against her stomach.  He alternated suckling and nipping on her breasts before he began his slow descent to her center.  When he reached the soft triangle of curls, her hips were already twitching. 

“Denis, please.”

He spread her legs, but did not dip down to taste her.  Instead, he began at her knees, kissing and nipping his way upwards.  His fingers finally outlined the lips, but did not touch the damp, engorged center.

“Denis.”

He smiled.  “Relaxed?”

“What!  No. Yes. Please, Denis.”

He bent and tasted. Her hips increased their rhythmic rising and falling.  A finger, then two slipped easily inside her as she continued to writhe against him.  He felt her tighten, shudder and reach her climax.

He slipped the fingers out and began an ascent to her mouth, retracing the path he had taken earlier.  When he reached her mouth, she surprised him.  The kiss was needy and greedy.  She threw her arms around him and then pushed him over onto his back. 

“My turn.”  She whispered as she sat astride his thighs and took him in hand.

He laughed. He had tried to please her and teach her how to please him.  She had proven an apt pupil.  Her clever fingers and mouth, moving over his torso and then covering his length proved she had learned the lessons well.  As his self-control wavered she slipped him inside her and arched against his now bent legs.  He reached between her curls to increase her pleasure and push her to her own peak.  As they reached a climax together, her walls tightening around his length, he thought briefly how lucky he would be to marry this woman. 

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

As she gathered her supplies, Nyla heard what sounded like a fight through her open window.  She looked out, surprised to see Vigil’s Shield soldiers battling Cousland troops on the wall walk above the barracks.  She doused the lamp and put on her armored gown.  Traveling around the country side as she did, the Teyrna had long ago insisted that she wear a robe with protective wards and armor insets across her back and around her torso.  Grabbing her staff she entered the hallway, but all was quiet in the keep.  Frowning, she walked towards the study where she saw a single Howe soldier leaving the solar next door.  _Had the Teyrn and the Arl finished and gone to relax with the Teyrna?_   Seeing Nyla, the soldier, to Nyla’s surprise, drew his sword and dagger rushed forward.  _He’s attacking me._   As he reached her, nicking her arm with his dagger she cast a paralyze spell. With the soldier immobilized, she ran her dagger across his throat, noting the surprise in his eyes.

Nyla shuddered. _Thank Andraste for the training I’ve done with the Teyrn’_ _s guard._ She looked at her arm.  _Just a scratch._

Continuing to the study, Nyla cracked open the door.   No one was there.  She moved on to the solar. Its door stood open.  She heard Teyrn Cousland say, “Why?”  She waited in the hall way, listening. 

Howe laughed.  “Because this Teynir is rightfully mine.  Your family stole it from the Howe’s generations ago.  My father tried to get it back during the Occupation.  I will succeed where he failed.”

Nyla heard the Teyrn groan.  Then Howe came into view wiping his blade clean of blood.

 _I can’t wait to hear more.  If I can get to the Teyrn…._ Nyla hesitated, knowing a battle with Howe would likely deplete her mana and her ability to heal the Teyrn.  _I’ll immobilize the Arl and tie him up.  Then heal the Teyrn.  I should let the Teyrn decide if he dies_. Nyla entered the study and lifted her staff to cast.

Howe looked up, his calm demeanor turning to anger when he saw Nyla.  “You! I sent a man to take care of you.”

“As you can see, he did not succeed.”

Howe chortled as he felt a weak spell wash over him. “Not losing your magic are you?” 

Nyla’s wide eyed look answered his question.

“Did Otho stab you?”  His movements were slow, but he was not paralyzed.

“Magebane,” she whispered. 

“Not completely effective yet, but it will be.”  He shrugged.  “No matter, there will be more soldiers where Otho came from.  My Shield has already killed every Cousland soldier in the barracks.”  He smiled.  “Most of them unarmed in their beds, at the gaming tables, in the armory or in the mess.  My Shield is taking them quietly room by room.  When the barracks is clear they will attack the guards on the battlements. The Shield at the Arl’s keep are doing the same.

My army, the one that is not two days away has already put patrols in the city.  We’ll be in control of everything by morning.”  He looked at Bryce.  “How could you believe it would take so long to march from Amaranthine?  My whole army stands outside your gates.”

The Teyrn groaned softly as a tremor shook his body.  Howe watched him, a pleased smile on his lips.  “Enjoy your last minutes, Bryce.  Did you know your brother died of the same wound?  Calling for you, but you never came. Not for him, not for Alex Burke and not for me.    You weren’t there to save us or bid us goodbye.  You ran at White River.  You left us to die.  Just as the Arl and young Fergus have left their wives to die.  Pity.” 

While Howe talked, Nyla had moved along the wall toward the Teyrn.

Howe laughed.  “You won’t save him, mage, but I won’t stop you trying with whatever power you have left.  I gut wounded him.  It will take him time to die, but kill him it will despite your efforts.  He can watch me kill the rest of his spawn.  I’ll bring each one to say good bye.”  With that Howe left the solar, leaving Nyla with Bryce.

“There are troops in the Great Hall, Nyla,” Bryce whispered.  “Warn them.  Have them go to my family.  Then, come back and help me to the larder.  There’s a tunnel.  The others will try to get there too.”

Nyla cast a healing spell, weak as it was.  She suspected the small scratch had not delivered a full dose of the magebane.  Even if she had her full powers she feared she could only delay the Teyrn’s death, not prevent it.  While she could heal the torn flesh, she could not repair the poisoning a gut wound generated.

She hurried to the Great Hall to alert the Teyrn’s personal guard of the attack.  The Hall was far enough away from the barracks and wall walk that no sound of battle carried to these troops.  Thankfully, more than four score in full armor sat at the tables dicing, playing cards and eating.  After making sure a group left for the family quarters, while the others prepared to defend the keep itself, Nyla rushed back to the Teyrn, fearing Howe had returned to finish the job.   Howe was nowhere in sight.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lys woke to Sherpa barking wildly.  Denis had gotten out of their bed.  Lys followed and heard what sounded like someone pounding on the door. 

“Lys, don’t open it,” Denis reached out to grab her arm when she pushed ahead of him and started towards the hallway door. 

“But I thought I heard screaming.”

“So did I.  We should dress first, _in our armor_.”  Denis pushed Lys toward her armor stand while he went to the chest where he had piled his leathers that afternoon.    “Armor.”

As they emerged from Lys’ rooms, two men came out of Fergus’ apartment wiping blood from their blades. 

“No,” Lys screamed rushing them.  They had no time to defend themselves before her blades and Sherpa’s teeth made an end to them.

Denis and Lys rushed into Fergus’ apartment to find a dead soldier lying next to Oren.  The boy was also dead.  Oriana sprawled next to him, her nightdress ripped open, with blood on her legs and her throat slashed.  Denis grabbed Lys’ shoulders to steady her. She dropped to her knees by Oren, brushing his hair back.

“We should have come out right away.”  Lys snarled through clenched teeth.

“Then we’d all be dead, Lys.  Think.  Those two would have cut us down, if we weren’t armored, even if we took them with us.”  Denis bent to close Oren and Oriana’s eyes and cover them with a coverlet from the bed.

“Thank you, Denis.”  Lys murmured still staring.  “Who did this?  Who would kill a child?”  Lys got up and turned over the dead man’s shields.  “They’re Howe’s men,” she said, pointing to the Amaranthine Bear.  “That bastard.  He has his Shield inside our barracks.  And inside the barracks at the Keep.  He must have surprised our troops in their rooms before they could form a defense.”

They hurried over to the Teyrn and Teyrna’s apartment where they heard Sherpa barking.  Making quick work of the three men trying to gain entry to her parent’s rooms, they knocked on the door again. 

“Mum, Papa, it’s Lys.  Mum are you there?”

Teyrna Eleanor opened the door and came out dressed in her armor and carrying her bow. 

“I heard screaming and fighting.  Are you alright?  Who are they, Lys?”

“Howe’s men.  Being late must have been part of his plan.”  Her breath caught as she spoke, “ Oren and Oriana, they killed them.  They’re not taking hostages, Mum.  He must want the Teyrnir.  He’s leaving no heirs.  Where’s Papa?”

The Teyrna stopped shocked at Lys’ words.  “He hasn’t come to bed.  Maker, Lys, Howe plans to kill us all.  We don’t have enough troops to hold him off with Fergus gone.  We need to get to the tunnel.”

“Tunnel?” Denis asked.

“There’s a tunnel leading under the wall.   The entrance is in the larder behind the kitchens,” Lys explained.  “Mum, we should get what weapons we can.  We’ll need to fight our way through.”

Teyrna Eleanor and Lys returned to their rooms gathering what they needed. Lys added some potions and poultices to the pouch on her belt.  She grabbed her bow and put on her hip quiver filled with arrows.  On her way out of her apartment to meet Denis and her mother, she grabbed an empty pack from a hook near the door.

“Let’s go find, Papa.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Denis, we’ve come this far, let’s check the chapel.  Mother Mallol may be hiding.  We can help her get away.”

They fought their way past the entrance to the Hall.  Teyrna Eleanor stayed to the rear with her bow targeting Howe’s archers, while Lys, Denis and Sherpa attacked the melee fighters.  At some points a servant or soldier would join them in their fight.  So far they had been successful in defeating the attackers they met, but not in saving all the Cousland retainers.  Too many friends and servants lay dead before they could reach them.  They had succeeded in retrieving the Cousland Sword, other useful weapons, coin and armor from the Treasury.  It felt like a Pyrrhic victory, however, as Lys would have preferred saving Aldous, Seneschal Mowry or the Treasury guards or anyone, really.

Upon reaching the chapel they found another skirmish in progress.  Once Howe’s soldiers fell, the Highever guard ran off to continue their fight.  Lys looked for Mother Mallol, but she was not there. 

“Perhaps she got away,” Denis said.

“Is Howe taking prisoners?”  Teyrna Eleanor wondered. 

“Not for ransom.”  Lys replied, bitterly. 

“Then…oh Maker, he can’t plan to…use them?  She’s a priest.”

Lys looked at her mother, “This is Howe.  Of course he plans to use them.  Now let’s go.  There’s nothing more we can do here.”  She strode out of the chapel towards the Hall.

Denis and the Teyrna exchanged looks.  “It’s how she’s managing,” Denis said.  “Let it go.  She’s doing her best.”

The Teyrna nodded, then turned to follow her daughter.

Another battle was raging as they entered the Hall.  Howe’s mage was casting murderous spells. 

“Focus on the mage,” Lys instructed the archers.  “Denis, protect the archers.  Sherpa, with me.”

Lys fought her way through to where the mage continued to cast, although the arrows from the archers succeeded in interrupting her and slowing the barrage of spells.  The mage turned to cast at the source of the arrows before Lys could reach her.  She focused on Teyrna Eleanor, but Denis noticed and jumped in front of the Teyrna.  The spell fell on him.  The Teyrna could only pull her daggers and fight off Howe’s troops as Denis writhed in the crushing spell holding him paralyzed.

Lys and Sherpa, unaware of the spell’s effect behind them, attacked the mage.  The onslaught of arrows, a mabari and an enraged woman proved more than the mage could handle.  Lys blades soon sliced through the mage’s throat as Sherpa hamstrung her from behind.  She fell.  With the mage gone, the Highever guards could make quick work of the remaining Vigilant Shield troops in the Great Hall.  How they would hold off the larger number massing outside the gates posed a different dilemma.

Once the last Howe soldier fell, Lys looked for her mother and Denis.  She found the Teyrna kneeling on the floor by Denis who struggled to catch his breath.

“What happened?  Where is he injured?  There’s no blood.”

“The mage cast a spell.  It paralyzed him.  It seemed to crush him.  Once you killed the mage, he just collapsed.”

“I’ll be fine,” Denis whispered.  “You…go on I’ll assist here.  I’ll be up…soon.  I’ll follow when I can.”

 _We need to move._   She looked at Denis.  She did not love him, but neither did she want her betrothal to end in this way.  “Denis, come with us.” 

“No, someone needs to command here.  I can do that and give you time to escape.”  He saw her skeptical frown.  “Did I not mention that I’m a trained chevalier,” he whispered.  “I have led our Guard, Lys, much as Fergus does.”

Lys felt spots of embarrassment on her cheeks.

“It’s fine love.”  He struggled to sit up.  “Better if I stand I think.  Help me.  Make breathing easier.”

“Denis….”

Lys, I know we…feel differently about each other.  It would make me happy if you go with your Mum.  Find Bryce.  Escape.  I’ll follow when I can.”

“Denis I-

“-I know.  For you it’s duty.  For me, it started out as duty, but its more than that.  At least I can prove that not all Orlesian’s are scoundrels or worse.”  He touched her cheek.  “Go!  Save you Mum, your Papa and yourself.  Howe will keep me as a hostage, if I’m captured.  I’m not a threat to his plans here.  He doesn’t need to kill me.  Even as a witness, no one would believe an Orlesian.  As an Orlesian, as my father’s heir I’m worth too much to kill.  I’ll be home in a month.”

She knew he might be right, if he survived the fighting.  Howe’s greed would make him spare the Seigneur de Rievaulx.  “I tried so hard not to love you,” she whispered almost to herself.

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she leaned in to kiss him.  It was a quick, soft kiss.  Nothing like the greedy kisses they had shared earlier that night.  It was this kiss that she would remember later.  They looked at each other, she touched his cheek and then she and the Teyrna were gone.

Denis faced the remaining guard.  “Your Teyrn needs you to keep fighting.  Will you let me lead you?”  To his surprise the troops all cheered.  “For Highever.  For Lord de Rievaulx.”

“Let’s hold them back for as long as we can to allow the others to escape.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Howe sat at Bryce’s desk.  Captain Lowan came in to report. 

“We succeeded in surprising the troops in the barracks as the slept, ate or gamed, but the troops on the battlements took longer.    Nor did we expect such a large group in the main hall or chapel.  The fighting has been fierce.  Even some of the servants took up arms.”

“No excuses, Lowan.  I want them all dead or captured. Make sure the girl and the Orlesian live.”  Howe’s mouth quirked up.  “A duc’s son will bring a tidy ransom.  The girl will be for Thomas.”

“I sent troops to the family quarters, My Lord.  I instructed them to take care of the guests and the Antivan first.  Do you still want the Teyrna?”

Howe nodded.  “We can use her to get the girl to cooperate.  Yes, the three of them.  Bind them and bring them to me here.  Make sure there are no other survivors.  We don’t need an heir running about.  My agent will see that Fergus dies in the battle at Ostagar.”

“Oh and Lowan, check on the Teyrn.  He’s in the solar down the hall.  If he’s still alive I want to show him our prizes.”

Lowan saluted and left, but returned frowning.

“My Lord, the Teyrn isn’t there.”

“What.”  Howe stood, leaning both hands on Bryce’s desk.  “It’s that damn healer.  She must have healed him enough to move him.  Find her and you will find him.  Bind her too.  Demetrius might have some use for another mage.  Make sure you coat your blades and dose her with magebane.  Whatever Otho did was not enough.”

“Yes, My Lord.”  

Howe returned to rifling through Bryce’s document coffers.  Another man stepped out of the shadows after Lowan left. 

“Should I stay with you My Lord?” 

Rogier had been with Howe for years.   He served as an assassin, a master poisoner and a ghost in the shadows to steal or plant contaminating document.

“Yes, for now.”

Rogier had found Bryce’s hidden wall compartment and the two coffers held within when Bryce and Howe had gone to the solar.  He had evaded the mage’s notice when she looked in.  By the time Howe returned, the rogue had opened both coffers.  He searched for any other hidden compartments in the wall, but found none.  While he searched, Howe went through the papers, replacing several with ones from his own satchel.  Documents that purported to show Bryce’s deep involvement in a plan to bring in chevaliers through Higheverport and allow Orlais to secure the North and its wealth.  The documents described how Bryce’s new son-in-law would lead Orlais’ forces.  Once ensconced in the Coastlands, the Orlesians, aided by Highever troops would spread out to conquer Amaranthine, the Bannorn and Denerim.  Cailan could remain king, if he cooperated, with Bryce as his Chancellor.  The princess would make an extended visit to Orlais.  No mention was made of the queen or her father.  Howe believed that in itself would condemn Cousland.     

 _That plan should convince even Bryland that Bryce planned to betray Ferelden to Orlais._ Howe smiled to himself.  _The Orlesian boy seems smitten by the Cousland chit.  Perhaps I can use that to get him to confirm Bryce’s plans.  His testimony would work nicely.  Then I can ransom him back to his papa._

Bryce’s study overlooked the gardens.  The study and Eleanor’s solar across the hallway lay on a corridor connecting the main keep with its great hall and family quarters to the new wing which housed more guest quarters and where the senior servants, like Nyla and Mowry had their rooms.  The fighting had not come in this direction, remaining in the keep, the kitchen and barracks ranges.  Howe sat by the fire, sipping Bryce’s whiskey and listening to the muffled sounds of battle outside the door.  The rogue stayed, guarding his master.   Howe waited for the prisoners to be delivered.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Sherpa ran into the Larder ahead of Lys and Teyrna Eleanor.  They had fought their way through more of Howe’s troops to get here.  Howe’s elite Vigilant Shield, his personal guard, fought to the death.  No one yielded in Castle Cousland that night.  They had not seen Howe, but Lys felt sure he searched for them.

The Teyrn lay on the floor, barely conscious, in a pool of blood.  Lys and Teyrna Eleanor rushed in and stopped.  “Papa, is that all your blood?”

“We’ll escape through the tunnels, get you to Areth,” the Teyrna said.

“It’s too late, Ellie.  I won’t…eh… survive the standing.”  He raised himself on one elbow, his other hand pressed against his torso.  Nyla tried to heal me, but…wounds are too deep.”

“Nyla is here?”

“No, I sent her…through the tunnel.  I ordered her.  Lys… go…get… get your mother away.  You and Sherpa find Fergus.”  He sank back onto the stone floor exhausted from the effort speaking required.  “Go.  Now.”  His voice barely rose above a harsh whisper.

“Mum, Papa is right.  We need to go.  Arlessa Alys may already be in the tunnel.  We need to go.”  Lys grabbed her mother’s arm. 

“You go ahead.  I…I need to say goodbye to Bryce.  I’ll follow.”

Lys turned to the already uncovered trap door.  She made sure Sherpa got to the tunnel down the steep stairway.  She turned to hug her father one last time.  “I love you Papa.”

“We love you, Lyssie.  You make me…so proud.  So right…about Howe.  Find Fergus.  See Howe get justice.  Cailan…  Anora …not stand for … treachery.”  His breath came in short, shallow bursts.  The Teyrn fell back onto the stones. 

“Papa.”  She watched in horror as his head fell to the side.  She felt his neck for a heartbeat.  “He’s gone, Mum.”

“No.  No, Bryce.”  Her mother’s breathing was ragged. She looked up at Lys. “Go ahead, my darling.  I’m right behind you,” Eleanor assured her turning to kiss Bryce one last time. 

Lys waited.  “Mum, _now_.  I’m not leaving you here.  Papa’s dead.  There’s nothing you can do.  Howe can’t hurt him anymore.”  She grabbed her mother’s arm and dragged her towards the tunnel as tears streamed down her face.

Lys closed the trap door and secured it.  They hurried down the tunnel.  They heard shouts above them and from the tunnel’s other end.  Lys pressed her hand to a palm plate on the wall and then pressed the rune like marks nearby.  A hidden door slid open.  She pushed Eleanor through.  Sherpa followed.  The door shut silently behind them.

Lys left Sherpa and her Mum standing by the door.  She walked down the passageway to the storage room. _Thank the Maker, this place has everything we could ever need._ The tunnel split just beyond the doorway with one path heading to the Arl’s keep and on to the Haris compound and the docks in Higheverport.  The other path led northwest to a cave near the original Cousland homestead.  The Portal to Areth was in a storage alcove just beyond the junction on the northwest path. 

Lys grabbed healing potions and a few poultices and then rushed back to her Mum.

“Mum…Mum listen to me, you need a potion.  Please, drink this.” 

During the fight through the castle, Eleanor had kept to the rear, using her bow.  Sherpa, Lys and Denis had fought close in, using their blades.  They had cuts, but nothing life-threatening.  Lys took a cloth and bound it around her temple over a poultice.  A slice above her right eye had split her eyebrow.  It bled profusely, but her eye was fine.  So far there was no sign of poisoning. 

She and the Teyrna drank the potion, feeling its effect almost immediately.  The healing warmth flowed through her.   Lys then made Sherpa drink her portion.    

“They can’t get in here,” she said aloud, as if to assure herself.  She leaned against the cool stone of the wall.  It was silent.   It smelled of dampness and earth.  There was no clang of steel on steel or shouts of fear and aggression.  There was no smell of blood and burning. 

Lys stood up, squaring her shoulders.  “I should go to the Keep and see if I can help the Broughtens.”

“It’s too late, Lys,” her Mum whispered.  “You know the Arl kept only a few guards, so with Howe’s Shield there….”

Lys nodded reluctantly.  “Most of the Higheverport guard were patrolling the city.  Arl Philip worried about drunken sailors not an attacking army.  It’s too late,” she repeated.  “We need to leave Highever.”

Eleanor was in shock.  Lys’ composure wavered as she began to comprehend the depth of Howe’s treachery  “Mum, let’s go to Areth now.  You can stay with Aunt Liv.  She can get word to Cousin Sam in Cumberland.  He can send help.  The Wrath.  Some wardens.  Fergus and I always meant to contact the Cumberland wardens.  Duncan left a letter, but we never got it aboard ship.  I promised I would once Papa left.  You can keep that promise for me.  Make sure Cousin Sam gets it.  Then you can stay in Areth or go to Cumberland…Maker’s Toenails I’m babbling aren’t I?“

Teyrna Eleanor nodded.  “I…I’m afraid nothing is making sense right now, Lys.”

“Let’s go to Areth, Mum.  To Aunt Liv.  We’ll talk later.”

The Teyrna nodded and let Lys lead her to the portal.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Lys ordered Sherpa to wait.  Mabari were not Travelers.  She pressed her palm on the palm plate and entered the coordinates for Revona City.  Upon arriving, she and Eleanor showered, washing away the blood and smell of battle.  The Travelers Hall in the Council building had a clinic.  They stitched Lys’s cut there, but warned her it would scar. 

“We’ll refer to you a surgeon who will make that scar disappear,” the nurse said.

“No.  No, it will be a reminder of what I lost tonight,” Lys replied.  “It’s fine.” 

Her mother had nodded.   “Let’s just get to Liv’s.  She can see that you get more attention tomorrow.  There are benefits to her being a doctor.”

Lys had put on the flats, jeans and a sweater from her locker in the Travelers Hall.  She reclaimed her mobile, wallet, purse and personal items.  Eleanor put on her own slacks and sweater while Lys called her Mum’s sister, Olivia Burke.

Lys’ grandparents had sent Olivia, her mother’s younger sister, to Areth during the Rebellion.  She never returned to Ferelden.  Eleanor had fought in the Rebellion with her brother Alex who had died at White River with Dougal Cousland.  Eleanor escaped with a nobleman named Bryce Cousland, Alex’s best friend.  Lys needed to tell her Aunt Liv that Bryce had not escaped this time, but that her sister had and was en route to Cumberland.  She pulled out her mobile.

“Hi, Aunt Liv, it’s Lys.”

“Yes, it’s a surprise visit.  Mum and I are here. We’re on our way to the townhouse.”

“I’ve been better, Aunt Liv.  We’ll explain when we get there.  We’re at the Council Building.  We’ll see you soon.”

Lys and Eleanor arrived at the Burke townhouse thirty minutes later.  Lys managed to get inside and greet her aunt, before the tears came.  Suddenly, knowing her aunt would take charge, allowed all the pent up emotion to burst through.

“Papa’s dead Aunt Liv.  Papa, Oren, Oriana,” she added at her aunt’s horrified look.  Lys gulped out words between sobs.   She hugged herself almost bending over as she tried to regain control.

“It’s true, Liv,” Eleanor said.  “They’re all dead.  Fergus is on his way to war, but there could be an ambush….”

Liv looked confused as she moved to put her arm around Lys, surprised that Eleanor remained so detached.  “Is it this Blight you spoke of on your last visit?”

“Not exactly, Liv.  Fergus went to fight with most of our troops.”  Eleanor spoke quietly, almost without emotion. 

Liv’s brow furrowed as she watched her sister.  “Come sit, we can talk in the great room.  I’ll make tea.”  She put her other hand on Lys’ arm to guide her to the couch.  Lys’ sobs had subsided.  Her tears still streamed, but quietly.

“Another noble took advantage of the Muster,” Eleanor continued after she sat down next to Lys.  “He delayed his arrival until after Fergus left.  He attacked us from within the castle.  His troops were in our barracks.   They surprised our troops and overwhelmed them.  Arl Howe, himself, killed Bryce.”

Lys spoke again.  “We found Papa near the escape tunnel.  He bled out on the floor there.  He died in Mum’s arms  He told me to find Fergus and warn him.”

“He wasn’t thinking.”  Eleanor spoke sharply. 

Liv would have been happy to see her exhibit some emotion if Lys hadn’t recoiled at her mother’s words.

“Of course he was thinking, Mum.  Fergus needs to know.”

Eleanor looked at Liv, “She plans on returning and going south alone.”

“Not alone, with Sherpa.”

“Stop.”  Liv ordered.  “Both of you are in shock.  I won’t make you go to the hospital now, but I will insist you sit down and have some tea.  Then when you’re tired you will take naps since it’s still early in the day here.  We’ll discuss next steps in some rationale manner later this evening or tomorrow.”

Lys swallowed and wiped her eyes.  “Perhaps you’re right, Aunt Liv,.”

“Of course I’m right Melysande Cousland.”

Lys looked at her Mum trying hard not to cry again.  Eleanor simply stared into space.  Lys put her arms around her Mum. 

“It all seems like a nightmare.  I should wake up with Bryce next to me,” Eleanor whispered.

Lys tightened her hug and felt her mother let go.  She looked up at her aunt who just nodded.

Liv prepared a tray with apple slices, shortbread and lemon ginger cookies, lemon slices, honey, and half and half in a small pitcher.  When the tea kettle whistled, she poured the water into the tea cups to warm them, then over loose tea in large strainer and left it to steep. She emptied the tea cups, added plates and mugs to the tray, which she took to living room.  Returning to the kitchen, she put the tea strainer in the sink and returned to Lys and Eleanor with the teapot and a box of tissues.

Lys took a mug, poured cream into it and then added the tea.  She took a sip then began to tell her Aunt the whole story starting with her betrothal, the Blight and finally the brutal details of Howe’s arrival and treachery.  Tears fell as she spoke and her voice faltered at times, but she told a coherent tale.

Throughout her narrative, Eleanor remained silent, sipping her tea.

“That’s all, Aunt Liv.  We got into the Portal tunnels and we were safe.  We left everyone else there.”

“Most of them were already dead, Lys or they had escaped.”  Eleanor said.

“So you couldn’t have done any more?”

“No,” Eleanor said.  “Nothing.”

Lys looked from her mother to her aunt and decided to leave them alone.  She took her mug and went out through French doors to the large deck.  _Aunt Liv and Mum can talk.  I don’t want to talk or think anymore._   _Or argue about whether or not I should return._ Her Aunt’s long haired dachshund followed and curled up at Lys’ feet.  Talisker, better known as Tallie, attached herself to Lys whenever she visited.  While not a mabari, Tallie could sense Lys’ mood and adjusted to it.

Lys loved the house in the city.  It had a long narrow yard that ended at an alley in the back.  A great white oak tree provided shade from early afternoon to dusk.  Lys considered the tree the Burke Vhenadahl.  As a child she had climbed its branches, swung in the swing and lounged in its shade, reading.  More than three hundred years earlier, it had been planted by the first Burkes to own this land.  More recently, the Burkes purchased the adjoining town house and, as their clan grew, combined them.  The tree, planted near what was now the center of the double yard, offered its protection to the entire space.  She felt as much at home here as she did in Castle Cousland.  It would be so easy to just stay.

Lys leaned her head against the back of the chair, closed her eyes, sipped the tea and scratched Tallie between her ears.  She chuckled to herself.  Tallie always snuggled closer, creeping up between Lys’ legs, until she rested her head on Lys stomach.  She must have dozed because the next thing she knew, she and Tallie were covered with a throw and the mug was gone.  The sun had dipped behind the town houses on the next street.  She could hear the murmur of conversation from inside the house. 

 _Maker, I could almost believe it was all a nightmare, if I weren’t so sore._ Her head ached.  Her shoulder had taken several hard hits from shields.  Her left thigh had a bruise the poultice had not healed.  She swung her feet to the floor eliciting a groan and a doggie frown from Tallie. 

“Sorry, girl, but I need to get up.”

Tallie stood and stretched, first her hind legs and then her front legs, ending with a yawn.  She hopped off the lounge and headed inside.

From the tone of the conversation, her mother and Aunt Liv were, not exactly arguing, but certainly having a discussion.

“It’s forbidden to use the Portals to transit in a single day from one city to another, Eleanor.  You know that.  You can’t come here then immediately go on to Cumberland.  Travel must proceed in a normal timeframe.”

“This is an emergency.  I thought perhaps an exception?”

“What would be the justification?”

“Help.  Help from Hrothgar’s Wrath and the Grey Wardens.  There’s a Blight.  Howe took advantage of the Blight to do this.  Lys and I could leave tomorrow.” 

“Mum, by the time you apply for an exception and get it two weeks will pass.  You only need to stay for three.  Take the time here with Aunt Liv.”  Lys stopped and bit her lip.  “Maybe, if you give Aunt Liv time to get caught up in her work…maybe she could go with you for a while?”

Her aunt looked up, surprised, then nodded.  “That might be possible.  I have lots of vacation time I should use.  You’ll stay with us?”

“No.”

“You’re going back?” her Aunt said.

“Of course I am.  I need to find Fergus as Papa asked.  I’m going to Ostagar.  Once I find Fergus, we can make a plan and I can return north.” 

“Lys, you can’t go alone.  You need to come to Cumberland with me.  Come back with mercenaries from Hrothgar’s Wrath.”

“We have money, a mercenary company and access to the Grey Wardens in Nevarra and the Marches.  While I’m finding Fergus, you can go to Cousin Samuel in Cumberland.  Tell him what happened.  Then talk with Commander Aleksi.  Go with him and Cousin Samuel to the Wardens in Cumberland.  Tell them about the Blight.  He can send men from the Wrath to scout and bring some wardens with him.  They work together all the time.  They can come through Waking Sea.  Cousin Alfstanna will help, I’m sure.  Papa wanted justice.  I must go back.”

Liv sighed.  “Of course you must.  You’re a Cousland.”  She shook her head.  “You’ll do your duty.  Oh Lys, I can’t make you stay here, but I wish you would.  I know you think you’re a Fereldan, but it’s a harsh, nasty place.”

“I know.  It’s also home.”

“I know.  It is for both of you.”

“At least go to Cumberland with us,” Eleanor repeated.  “Return with the Wrath and these wardens.  You can take some of them to find Fergus.”

“No.  I’m going right back to Highever, Mum.  I don’t have to wait to do that.  I need to find Fergus and warn him.  I promised Papa.”

“I’ll never change your mind will I?  I wish Bryce had never asked you to go.”

“I’d go anyway Mum.”

Eleanor sighed.  “Liv, you have contacts.  She’ll need the latest in medicines, armor and weapons.  Enough to last for a long time, I think.”  Eleanor looked at Lys.  “You will wait and let Liv get you supplies.”

“Yes.  Yes, that makes sense.  Since I’m going back to Highever, I can return only minutes after I left.  Sherpa’s there Mum, I have to get back to her too.”

Eleanor shook her head.  “I’ll get us something for dinner while Liv is calling.” 

Lys began to protest.

“We have to eat, darling.  Just a salad or soup, nothing heavy.   I need to do something.  Then we should try to get a good night’s sleep.”

Olivia got up and placed a call on her mobile.  “This is Doctor Burke.   I need to speak with Steve Morris, is he in?   Good.”  Liv paced up and down in front of the island in the kitchen.  “Steve, I have an emergency order to place for a Traveler returning to her homeland.  Yes, Ferelden in Thedas.  There’s war and Blight.  She’s returning to fight.  Can you coordinate?  Yes, my niece.  Good   I’ll send you the list.“  Olivia ended the call and began typing on her device.

“I’m ordering Blight medicine, contraceptives, antibiotics, any other medicines on the list for Ferelden.  Most will be pills, so not heavy to carry.  You’ll have potions and poultices there.  I hope you’ll have access to healing magic.  Healing magic should cure anything except death and Blight sickness.  The Blight medication will cure the Blight sickness.”  Liv smiled slightly.  “So just don’t get dead!”

“I’ll do my best, Aunt Liv.  You know I had the contraceptive shot in Guardian.”

“I know.  The shot should last a year, but you need to be careful after 10 months.  Particularly with your first one, as we may need to adjust the dose.  Normally we would check, but you may not be able to get back.  So use the pills beginning in… Haring.”

“Thanks Aunt Liv.  For the help and for not nagging me to stay.  I know you had to ask.  I’ll be careful.  I’ve gotten careful in my old age.  See I can even make a joke.”  Lys managed a small grin. 

“The supplies won’t be ready until tomorrow.  Eleanor and I will go with you back to the Council building.  I’ll make sure you get everything you need.

“I requested the new arming clothes – leggings, gambeson and cowl – a cloak and new boots.  We can get one set for you and one for Fergus, if you can carry it.  It’s light, if we leave out his boots.  The say it will stop bullets, so it should help with swords and arrows.  You should take some techno gear as well.  A real looking _parchment_ journal and a _quill_ pen, solar belts, music player, what else?  A camera - the Council will kill for pictures of Darkspawn you know.

“As will I,” Lys quipped.

Her aunt chuckled, “At least the Cousland humor survives.”

“It might keep me sane, Liv.”

“Oh, we have sovereigns, too.  We can give you as many as you want given the circumstances.  You can’t carry enough to break the bank of Ferelden.”

“Along with the medicines and arming clothes that should be enough.”  Lys confirmed.  “The storage room is well stocked.  I can get everything else I need there. You know what we can do here, before I go?  We can get my hair cut.  Maybe change the color.  I’d also like a facial tattoo.”

Eleanor and Liv looked at her with identically raised eyebrows. 

Lys smiled.  “You two look so alike when you do that.  I need to look as different as possible, you know that, Mum.  Lady Cousland is very vain about her lovely, long, thick hair.  It needs to change.  Where’s the edgiest hairdresser you know, Aunt Liv?  They’ll probably know where I can get a temporary tattoo.”  She looked from her aunt to her mum.  “It’s a tattoo that will last weeks or months and wear off gradually.  Getting supplies to refresh it would be even better.”

“Temporary,” Eleanor echoed.

“If I wanted a facial tattoo, Mum, I’d have a vallaslin.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you could have one.”

“The Rasiae offered, I declined, not being Dalish.”

 “I…see.  Yes, it makes sense, Lys.”

“I’m going to freshen up.  I still feel groggy from my nap.”

Eleanor watched her daughter leave.  “She’ll not give herself time to mourn or adjust.”

“Did you during the Rebellion?”

“I wasn’t alone, Liv.  I was with Bryce after Alex and Dougal died, but no, we didn’t mourn until later.”

“She’ll find Fergus and then she won’t be alone either.”

“Will you come with me to Cumberland?”

“Yes.  I’ll come and help you and Sam.  We’ll need to get those troops to Highever quickly won’t we?”

“And get more wardens to Ferelden.  We had a letter from the Warden Commander requesting aid from the Cumberland wardens.  It was never sent.  I’ll need to take the message personally.”

“Where will troops land?”

“In Waking Sea.  The islands are too remote for Howe to patrol.  He doesn’t have any ships.  We can send word to Alfstanna.”  Eleanor squared her shoulders.  “It feels good to have a plan.”

“We’ll get this bastard, Ellie.  I may hate Ferelden, but I will defend my family.  It was easy to stay here in good times, but I won’t desert you again when hardship comes.”

“Liv-“

“-I know, I was a child.  Nevertheless, not again.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“Can’t sleep Lys?”

“Woke up and couldn’t get back.”

Liv sat on the deck with Lys as they watched the sun light reach the top of the great oak tree.

“It’s so peaceful.” 

“Lys, I’m not saying don’t go, but have you thought it through?”

“Yes.  I understand Mum has lost everything but me.  That she wants me with her to protect me.  She doesn’t believe Fergus is alive, I think.  Or she’s afraid to.  I believe.  He’s alive.  I’ll find him.”  She had been sipping coffee and looked up at her aunt from her mug.  “Foolish, perhaps, but Papa believed too.  I need to honor that.”

“Good.  You’re a sensible young woman.  Too sensible sometimes, I think.”

“Thank you.  For trusting me.  For going with Mum.  I’ll feel better knowing you’re there.  I’ve never seen…Mum will….”

“It will take time Lys. but having something to do to help you will help her.”  Olivia smiled, “Even if she worries about you every moment.  Sam will calm her too.  Cumberland will be familiar, without too many memories.  Your Mum will be fine.”

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

“Let’s check on the orders and then get something to eat.  Everything should be ready when we finish.”  She looked at her niece.  “At least one more good meal with us before you go.  We’ll see how the folks here react to your tat.”

Lys nodded.  “Better than you and Mum I hope.”

Eleanor looked at her daughter.  Her dark brown hair had been cut to just above her shoulder blades and braided.  They weren’t exactly cornrows, being more loosely braided and thicker, but there were multiple, braids that radiated out from the center of her head.  They could be pulled back or left hanging free to partially cover her face.  They were flat enough to allow cowl and helmet to fit over them, a requirement that had amused the hairdresser.  The tattoo swirled across her forehead and down under one eye and across that cheek.  Its color was a purplish grey, which emphasized her green eyes.  The finishing touch was the hair color.  Her brown hair now had large streaks of auburn and dark blond. 

“It serves its purpose Lys.  A tattoo is not something Howe could imagine you acquiring in such a short time.  That and the hair color will confuse searchers going on a simple description.”  Eleanor put an arm around her girl.  “I am relieved sweetling that it will wear off and your hair will grow out.”

Lys slipped her arm around Eleanor’s waist.  “Me too, Mum  I’m not sure I’d want to look like this forever.  Maybe it’s just the reason I had to do it that is making me feel this way.”  She smirked.  “I was tempted when the Rasiae offered the vallaslin.  I even had one designed.  Then I decided it was more affectation than anything.  For Kai, it’s different.  She’s adopting their ways.  It fits.”

“I’m glad she’s happy there but, although it’s selfish, I wish Kai was going with you.”

Lys took a deep breath.  “I do too Mum, but I’m glad she’s safe.”

“Could you go to the Rasiae?”

“No.  I’d be afraid that, if Howe’s troops did track me, I’d lead them to the clan’s camp.  I can’t do that.”

“No, no of course you can’t.”

“It’s just me and Sherpa, Mum, but we’ll be fine.  I know all the trails that Howe’s men don’t.  I know hidden caves and safe camp sites.  I’ll take one of the smaller, higher passes.  They won’t find me.”

Lys returned to the Council quarters to pick up her supplies.  She donned the arming clothes.  They told her the fabric would stop bullets; she hoped it worked as well on blades.  She clipped on the ear cuff, which was also a music player.  A small pack sufficed for her other items.  She looked in the mirror.  Braids, streaked with blond and auburn could hide her face or be pulled back.  With the arming cowl added, even Kai might not recognize her.  And there was always the Nevarran battle mask which only showed her eyes and mouth.  

“Well, Mum, Aunt Liv, meet Mel, a sell sword from the Coastlands.  Think I’ll fool anyone?”

“It’s quite a change Lys, I mean Mel.  I think you’ll hide very well in plain sight.  Just remember, the meds can’t cure dead.  Take care.”  Liv hugged her niece.

“Mum, good luck in Cumberland.  It will be at least five or six weeks before troops can get to Waking Sea.  I’ll be in touch with Alfstanna in six weeks.  Seven at the most.  I’ll join the Wrath and we can start harrying Howe’s troops on the Coastlands.”

Eleanor hugged Lys tightly for a long time.  “Keep safe, Lyssie.  Find Fergus, but keep safe.”

Lys stepped back from her Mum’s embrace, hefted her pack and stepped into the Portal.  _For Highever,_ she thought. 

**9:30 Dragon  10 Drakonis  ===  Beneath Castle Cousland, Highever**

Sherpa sat waiting in the storage room.  She cocked her head as Lys came from the Portal. 

“Yes, Sherpa, I look different.  Guess the smell’s still the same?”

Sherpa wagged her tail and butted Lys’ leg.  “Sherpa, we need to change your name too.  I’m called Mel now.  You need to answer to Shepherd or Shep.  Can you do that?”

Sherpa, huffed.

“I know, it will be hard, but we must make ourselves difficult to recognize.  We’re going to find Fergus.  Howe’s men will be looking for us.  He’ll be looking for a noble girl, her mother and her mabari, Sherpa, not a free company mercenary with wild hair, a tattooed face and a mabari called Shep.”

Lys sank down next to Sherpa and leaned against the wall.  “I miss Kai so much, Sherpa.”  She ran her hand through the Sherpa’s fur.  “I’m so glad she wasn’t here tonight.  If Howe caught her….I’d like to warn the Rasiae, but I’m afraid we’d only lead Howe to the clan.  We’ll have to hope they see the danger and move on.  Which is what we need to do girl.”

Sherpa huffed again and settled back on her haunches.  “Thanks, Sherpa.  It’s Shepherd or Shep once we leave here.”  Lys looked at her hound thoughtfully.  I think I’ll need a story for you too.  I guess we’ll say we met on the road south and you adopted me.”

Lys grabbed a large pack and began to fill it with everything she would need.  A small shelter and bedroll; flints and steel; lockpick kit; honing stone, cloth and oil; candles; flasks; potions and poultices; her medicines and supplies from Areth; throwing and boot knives; quills and ink powder; the new cloaks and arming clothes from Areth for her and Fergus; both linen and fine wool leggings and tunics; a simple wool dress and plain shoes; fur hat; her chainmail mask and helmet; rope; more sovereigns; Arethian techno gear; and cooking pot, utensils and dried food.  The Cousland shield hung across the back with its Crest covered and the family sword slipped into a sheath beneath it.  The pack had sheaths for her own blades on its sides.  She lashed the bow on as well.  It would be heavy, but this is all she had of home. 

  _And of Denis._ She twisted the ring she wore _.  I should put this on my chain to hide it too._    The emerald laurel branch necklace lay in her room.  

Fortunately, her best armor had been in her room when Denis insisted she wear it.  She needed to remove the Cousland and Highever crests, but otherwise it would do.  She wore her new boots, fitted with daggers, but chose her old gambeson and well-worn dark, oiled cloak.  No need to look to prosperous. _I’ll need to scuff up this armor.  I can say I got it used._   _Then I start to tell them about the body I took it from…that should stop further questions_.  She added her hip quiver filled with arrows.  Her solar bands, slung across her chest, held extra sovereigns and her throwing knives.  She wore the new cowl, which covered her hair, shielded her face and provided some warmth and water repellence in the cold Fereldan spring.   Her cloak’s hood would cover its new shininess. Drakonis promised warmer weather, but often provided cold rain or even sleet.  It would be weeks before dependable warmth came to the Coastlands.  Even longer the farther south she traveled.

“It’s time Sherpa, let’s go out to the cave exit and see if it’s clear to leave.”

Lys and Sherpa walked through the secure tunnel to the cave in the Cliffs of Conobar.  A panel provided a limited view into the cave, but gave her the chance to see or hear if anyone moved about.  Hearing and seeing nothing, she opened the door.  Lys motioned for Sherpa to scout the cave entrance and cliff path.  Sherpa walked to the entrance, fell on her stomach, and crept to the opening.  Her wagging stump indicated that she sensed no one nearby.  It was still dark.  Ignoring the time spent in Areth, it had only been four hours ago that I woke to the sound of fighting?  _Papa still lived then.  It seemed like a lifetime ago._

Creepping up beside Sherpa, Lys checked the path herself.  The only sound was the surf slamming upon the beach below. 

“Lys and Sherpa died back there in the castle Shepherd. Now Mel and Shep will go to Ostagar to find Fergus.  We should get a good start while it’s still dark and Howe’s troops remain preoccupied with the castle and city.”  She looked east toward the castle where the flames lit the sky.  “Is it odd that I hope Denis is a hostage?  He’s right, Howe is greedy.  Perhaps he will be home in a few weeks.  Mum is safe with Aunt Liv.  Fergus may…no...is alive too.”  She looked out over the Waking Sea, where there was only water, sky and stars.  Although it had held sadness and disappointment, the twenty years since her birth had been, for the most part, a string of brief shining moments of happiness.  There had been sadness too.  King Maric’s disappearance.  Not helping Alistair.  Being betrothed to an Orlesian.  Nothing, however, had prepared her for this night.  She thought of a verse Mother Mallol had favored in difficult times.

 _Though stung with a hundred arrows,_  
 _Though suffering from ailments both great and small,  
_ _Her Heart was strong, and she moved on._

“I’ll keep a strong heart, Shep.  We’ll move on.  We’ll find Fergus and we’ll find justice for Highever.”  She scratched Shepherd behind her ears.  “I have to believe that Shep.”

The young woman and her mabari started along the cliff path her ancestors Jadyn and Melys had traveled so many ages ago.  Like them, she traveled alone.  Like them, she would endure.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope you enjoyed Lys’ pre-Blight story. It’s been quite a ride for me. I learned a lot. I’m thankful for Kira’s beta efforts, which saved the story several times over, and your reviews and support. Thank you for reading. 
> 
> Lys’—ooops Mel’s story will continue in a few weeks with I Shall Endure Book 2: In Plain Sight. As you have probably surmised by now, Lys Mel is not a warden. I hope to have fun with magic, as Liam and Alistair lead the wardens against the Blight. You’ll have to read on to find out whether Taina and Daveth find Alistair, what Eleanor decides to do, if Lys Mel and Ali meet again and what happens during the Blight year to Fergus, Anora, Elin, Delilah, Kai and the rest. As always, major canon events will occur, but outcomes may be quite different. If you’re following me you’ll get a notice when the first chapter posts. If not, please check on either fanfiction.net or AO3. I’ll continue to post on both sites.
> 
> If you need an Ali fix, I do have one other fic on AO3 called Frozen Dragons. Zevran and a few DA2 characters join him. It does not contain any spoilers for I Shall Endure, but it is the Alistair character I’ve developed. I may post it on FF.net in the interim. I did not ask Kira to beta Frozen Dragons so any deficiencies are all mine.
> 
> If you have time, reviews, short or long, are always welcome!
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta Kira Tamarion for her sharp eyes and thoughts. She helped me enormously during this journey. Her astute comments improved every post. Any errors are all mine.
> 
> Thanks to those who Favorited, offered Kudos, Subscribed and/or Followed. Special thanks to those who reviewed or commented: Arsinoe de Blassenville, Mike3207, ElyssaCousland, dustywalker, Caraine and SnowHelm. You inspire me and make me think. I appreciate the continuing thoughtful feedback. I hope you continue to read and enjoy Book 2, In Plain Sight.


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